A Hint of Dawn
by Firenightshade
Summary: Once an adventurous elfling, an incident leaves Amariel, daughter of Thranduil quiet and fearful. Ever hiding from humans and memories alike, she often flees to the forest for reprieve. That is until one fateful day she stumbles across a lone noldo. Gone the next day, the encounter feels like a dream until a strange feeling leads Amariel to a terrifying realization: She is pregnant
1. Prologue: Chance meetings

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

Also, this story is rated T for occasional strong language and mature themes. I am not fully sure if it is the right rating, so be warned.

This story is going to go by a hybrid of book–Tolkien lore, movie-lore and my own ideas. For the purpose of this story, some Tolkien-lore is overlooked, like the fact that elven lovemaking means marriage, wherever and whenever it happens, and other elves can immediately tell the elf is married. Seeing as you probably read the summary before reading this, I'm sure you understand why. Let us hope Tolkien will forgive me.

That said, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!

 **Prologue: Chance meetings**

Amariel sighed quietly, readjusting the strap on her shoulders as she moved through the forest. It was eerily quiet, yet she had grown used to this by now. It was always quiet in the forest these days, quiet and dark. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of leaves above, or snap of broken twigs in the distance. Usually the latter sound sent her skittering up a tree, fearful of whatever might meet her. It had in actuality happened now, but a minute passed, but she soon found there was no danger. Only a lone deer grazing in the distance. Even so, her abrupt movements had caused her satchel to move the other way, making it's strap on her shoulder glide from the comfortable crevice it had found. Now it simply would not remain in place.

With a quiet huff of irritation, Amariel pulled the strap up her shoulder once more in a jerked move, causing the bottles inside it to clank against each other. She froze as the sound seemed to echo in the silent forest, then felt a twinge of guilt.

The sound of the contents within had reminded her of why she was here, of her own cowardice. She wondered if perhaps she should go back, return to her family who most surely would notice her absence soon, if they had not already. But then, she didn't want to. She had gone for a reason, seeking the reprieve of the forest. One glance around made her almost want to laugh at that thought however.

Mirkwood, a reprieve? The forest was dark and dank, infested with spiders and poisoned by evil. In truth, it was quite the wonder that she even dared go out here alone, particularly considering her reason for leaving the palace in the first place – fear. She should fear the forest more, and yet here she was. What was it Legolas had said? "You let petty fears overrule the real dangers you face.". Perhaps he had been right in the end. After all, here she was in Mirkwood, all alone, fleeing a celebration. The celebration of her own mother, no less.

A deep sigh escaped her lips at that. Her mother. Legawen – green maiden. It was such a harmless name, one that did not promise danger of any kind. And yet if one only judged by the name, one would not be ready for the personage that carried it.

For her mother had been a leader, an unofficial queen of the silvan people. She had been beautiful and talented, quick in words as she was in arms, brave in the face of danger. In short everything Amariel longed to be. And yet, had she succeeded at all?

Amariel was shy, unsure of what to do or say when faced with opposition. The only weapon she could use well was the bow and arrow, for she could never meet an enemy face to face. And as for talents? She had grown up in the shadow of her family. In the shadow of her father, a strong unwavering leader of the people. In the shadow of her mother fair and beloved lady of the silvans. And even in the shadow of her two brothers, Aglar, strong like his father, skilled with words like his mother, and Legolas, kind and brave, a born fighter of and for the people.

Compared to them, she had no talents, no particular skills. All she had learned to do was hide. To move swiftly and silently from any scary situation, be it danger in the forest, or simply prying questions or disapproving stares. She had even learned to escape the palace altogether on days when dire need arose. _That is my skill_ , she thought. _The skill of a weakling_.

This day was one of the days she had use for her "talent". It had been the anniversairy of her mother, and they had held a banquet in her honour. Sindar and silvans alike had arrived from all over the forest, to pay homage to the queen they had loved so dearly, and speak with the royal family, offering their condolences as was custom. She had hated standing there, having so many look up at her, having so many speak with her. It was not that they were cruel, or even unkind. No, in fact it was the opposite. They were all kind and caring, and when they looked at her she saw love in their eyes, like they had for the rest of the royal family. But with her it always felt different, for the love was not aimed at her. When they looked at her, they saw only her appearance, and her looks which she inherited from her mother. They loved her for that memory, not for her. How many times had she been congratulated on her countenance, told that she carried on her mother's legacy? She did not want anyone to misunderstand. She loved her mother, and she was thankful that she inherited her likeness. It was a compliment after all. And yet, when she was reminded of it, it still felt wrong.

The truth was, she did not carry on her mother's legacy, or even her father's. Her brothers did, like she never could. So why then, had she drawn the longest straw at their births? Why had she inherited the beauty of her mother when she was least deserving of it? And particularly when she thought about what she had done, or failed to do. It seemed like mockery to her that Iluvatar had bestowed upon _her_ her mothers likeness when she would one day be partly to blame for her demise.

And so the undeserved compliments had become more than she could handle. As soon as the main banquet ended and the guests moved to the hall of trees for socialization, she retired quietly and snuck out of the palace.

For a moment she wondered what her family would say, or in particular, her brother, Legolas. He was the one that always found her, searching with his patrol. Perhaps he would bring up their old joke, the one that he used whenever he found her wandering around in the wilds after a convenient flight. But then, maybe he wouldn't. This time she doubted he would, not with extra weight in her bag. The weight of dorwinion, the finest wine on Arda. Atleast it was according to her people. She wouldn't know what others thought. She'd never been outside of Mirkwood, nor met any foreigner except for maybe one or two human merchants of Laketown. No foreigner other than… _those_ men.

She drew her cloak closer about her at the memory, tendrils of fear snaking up her back despite knowing none of them lived today. Her father had never introduced her to anyone outside of the races she belonged to by heritage. To a certain extent, she did not mind. She had only seen the merchants of Laketown at a distance when she was but an elfling, and it had been by mistake. Perhaps not on her part, for Amariel had fully intended to see these people she kept hearing of, but it was not intended by her father. She understood why now, her memory of her last encounter with that foul race all too clear in her mind. Today she only wondered why they had not lectured her harder for such utter folly and recklessness. Either way it was a major reason to why she had not chafed overly at her father's overprotectiveness - she had no desire to know any more of the human race, and the wanderlust of her younger years had been quickly subdued when she'd heard they had all but taken over the world, with only a few exceptions.

But that still left the other elven races unknown to her. She had met none other than the mix of races Mirkwood provided, which was sindar, silvans, and avari who finally moved west. But they were all similar in coloring, though the avari could often have darker tones of skin, their hair was always in tones ranging from brown, to red to blonde, eyes always green, blue, or hazel.

The thought made her want to sigh. Beauty and outer appearance was such a shallow thing, she reminded herself, and yet it chafed at her to know she had never even _seen_ an elf with silver or black hair, even though she'd heard they were a common colors outside of Mirkwood. She wondered how it would look for a moment, and whether the "black haired" elves truly had black hair, or if their hair was simply dark brown and might sometimes _look_ black. When that thought truly registered, Amariel shook her head in exasperation, and tried to push it aside.

This was a foolish thing to be thinking of, for she really needed to be concentrating on the forest, watching out for any spiders or other potential dangers. She knew where she was headed it was safe, as she had gotten an overview of patrolling plans and had chosen that particular clearing since none went there this week, yet it was pretty surrounded by patrols and thus protected. However, the journey there was not as safe. As if to prove her thoughts, something snapped in the woods and Amariel stopped and twisted immediately, aiming her bow in the general direction of the sound. She remained in that position for a while, completely silent and listening.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

With a heave, Elladan stuck his sword in the heart of an orc. Then he whirled, pulling it out to parry another orc that he heard coming from behind. Around him swords clashed and arrows whined as they hit their targets. It was a hard fight. When he disposed of his orc, Elladan was free for a moment and looked around. The battlefield was bloody, yet only orcs were lying dead on the ground. That was because this was their ambush, not one of the orcs. They had tracked them for a long time, down from the high pass and all the way to the borders of Mirkwood. Here, they had finally ambushed them using the cover of the trees to their advantage. Elladan smiled grimly as another orc fell to an elven sword. They had finally gotten what they deserved. He never repented killing orcs; foul beings they were. Then his mind turned to his twin. Usually they fought together, but last he'd seen him, he had been fighting two orcs and unable to stay close.

He spotted Elrohir a moment later, fending off a warg. The rider was dead, hanging of it's saddle. Behind him, another orc was groaning and getting to his feet. With a cry, Elladan ran for his brother, knocking one orc over the head with the hilt of his sword as he passed. When it fell he saw his second in command, Sadron, looking at him, startled.

"I had that one," he growled and raised his sword to finish the job.

"I know," Elladan said, just as he reached his brother. Elrohir only spared him a quick glance.

"Behind you."

Elladan twisted and brought his sword up, just in time to stop the swipe of a warg rider. He cursed, glancing around. The orcs he had originally come for were gone, but this warg and rider would provide more than enough distraction. The warg snapped at him and Elladan jumped back skillfully, flexing his shoulder a little to relieve tension from having held his sword that high. When the orc was on its warg it was in a position of strength and the downward swipes were always much harder to intercept. He would have to get the thing down, then.

He jumped to the side again as the warg lunged at him, then rolled when the orc brought his sword down once more, going below his reach. He came up on his knees next to the warg, and drove his sword into it's side, piercing the orcs foot on the way in. It roared and swung again, and Elladan just managed to draw the sword out and roll away.

"Tonight I will feast on your flesh," the orc threatened but Elladan gave him no chance to continue, lunging at it once more. The next moments passed by very quickly. It seemed one moment he was fighting the orc, getting his foot in the warg's harness to get the traction he needed to push his sword into it's rider. The next the orc fell and he was alone, hanging over the back of the warg. He tried to use his sword again, but the warg jumped and started running and he gritted his teeth. He realized he was stuck, his foot caught on the inside of the harness. Somehow managing to get his sword back in it's scabbard, he leaned down for a knife, when he realized – he had none. He had thrown it to aid one of his fellow patrol members.

All he could do was hold on helplessly as the warg ran. Atleast he had stabbed the thing. It should slow down from bloodloss sooner or later.

Suddenly Elladan spotted his pack. They were heading straight for it, and he tried to focus on bag, but it was hard as the wargs movements were uneven, the ground coming close and far at sudden intervals as it ran and leaped. Then he was above his pack and he dropped, grabbing it with one hand as the other held on. At that moment everything seemed to go wrong. The warg leaped suddenly, twisting and kicking off a nearby tree. The movement tore Elladan's hand from the harness and threw him in into the side of the warg.

Suddenly he was slammed into the ground, before he was airborne once more. Then he hit it again, and he cried out as he was pulled helplessly straight over some roots. He turned his pack quickly, and hooked it around his shoulders. How he did it, he was not sure, but it finally provided him some relief. The pack took the hits to the ground and was scraped as the warg ran. They had left the battlefield by now Elladan noticed with rising dismay. The trees were getting darker and darker as he was pulled deeper into Mirkwood. Internally, Elladan was cursing every chance and stupid action he himself had made to end up in such a dangerous situation. Mirkwood was a perilous place, and he was being pulled further and further in, all alone.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The sounds she'd heard grew closer, and Amariel jumped into a tree nimbly, pulling her bow back and aiming again. It sounded like something on four legs crashing through the undergrowth, but there was something else to the sound too. Something else was there, maybe an unusual appendage of some sort, yet it sounded big. An orc, she thought and her bow immediately started shaking. Or rather, shook more than it already did. She scowled for a moment at her hands. She knew she should not have drunk that last glass of wine, but the temptation had been too great. Now she was paying for it with her aim.

If it was something too dangerous, she might just let it pass, she decided. Most likely whatever it was would not notice her, and hit some patrol further in that would take care of it. She felt ashamed at her own cowardice though. Who knew what state that patrol would be in? She should stop the beast… if only she could.

Then it crashed through the foliage. A warg, with no rider. Her arrow hit high on the shoulder and it went down unceremoniously, landing on it's side and skidding a couple of feet. It was dragging something by the harness she noticed, as she climbed down carefully to look closer. The warg was still snarling and heaving for breath, snapping half heartedly at her. A bad shot, she decided. It had hit it's shoulder instead of forehead where it was supposed to. She studied the creature for a moment from afar, then felt a surge of relief. It was paralyzed. So the shot was a lucky one in the end, to have hit the spine. That would kill it after a while by blood loss, or if not then starvation. But the warg should get a quick, clean, death.

She unsheathed one of her twin knives, which she always brought with her, and drove it through the warg's throat. It gave a last snarl, then shuddered and fell still.

Then she looked to the thing it had been pulling. It was lying halfway underneath the warg, completely still and quiet. Amariel moved slowly in a half-crouch around the warg for a better look. Then instinct had her leap back, taken completly by surprise.

A black haired elf lay before her, a lone noldor in the middle of Mirkwood. After a moment, Amariel moved forward again and came to a stop before the elf.

He was passed out, his hair slipping out of a single messy braid to fall in his eyes while his hands lay limply at his side. She looked to the warg lying on top of him then, and braced herself against a nearby tree. Then she pushed with all her strength. It was hard, long labor and it gave her time to consider how and why he might have come into their forest unnanounced and unwelcomed. She did not like any of the possibilities that came to mind, and suddenly she was glad he was passed out. Even in her forest, a noldor might prove a dangerous adversairy.

Moments later she berated herself. She had promised herself long ago not to judge an entire elven-race by rumours and assumptions alone. She already thought the silvans, sindar and even avari fools for doing it to one another, with their constant stereotyping and foolish assumptions. Her mother was mixed silvan and avari, while her father was a pure sindar. She knew well that the stereotypes were not fully true. And then, she had heard some good things about the noldor. Elrond was supposedly very wise and respected as a healer, even amongst the Mirkwood elves. He would have no reason to suddenly act agressive towards the elves of Mirkwood after centuries of silence, and from the stories it did not seem in his nature to lash out unnecessarily. She would take that as enough not to brand this noldo as an enemy… yet.

The warg finally rolled away, and Amariel studied the ellon underneath. He was tall and strong, with broader shoulders than she had ever seen in an elf. She thought perhaps it was a noldor trait, as she bent down carefully, keeping an eye on his hands. They did not move.

Carefully, she cupped his cheek, turning his face up, and pushed away his hair to reveal a face that seemed right out of the legendary tales of old, both well defined and regal, dark hair and eyebrows creating starch contrasts on nearly luminescent skin. Even so, there was something slightly earthy about him, something rugged in the hard lines of his jaw, the thick line of his eyebrows.

She tapped his cheek, frowning down at him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, tapping harder when there was no response. "Noldo, can you hear me?" He still did not move. Then she touched his eye, about to examine one pupil when suddenly he groaned, his entire body moving. _Atleast he was not paralysed_ , Amariel thought.

"Shhh," she murmured her eyes flickering around the clearing surreptiosly. There was a quiet skitter of leaves as animals moved in the trees overhead, and she relaxed minutely. No spiders. "Don't move. I'm not sure of your injuries yet." At her voice those dark eyebrows knitted, and his eyes opened. Amariel stilled completely as he looked at her. His eyes were grey… nay, silver, a clear colour that reminded her of a midnight pool, captivating and deep. She could almost see thoughts deep within, as their gazes met and caught, the silver of his eyes flickering as his eyes moved over her, then quickly to their surroundings before landing on her once more.

Finally the noldo squeezed his eyes shut with the faintest shake of his head. "I am dreaming." He spoke in sindarin, with a strange accent she'd never heard before, but she understood him well.

"What?" he opened his eyes again, and again she saw those silver pools.

"You're not real. I am dreaming." When she frowned in confusion he smiled, his lips moving up a fraction on one side. "Don't worry." He said, moving his shoulders. "It is not a bad dream." Then he groaned in pain. "Except for that. Where am I?"

"Mirkwood," she said quietly, glancing around. She should get the noldo to a safer place at the very least. They were exposed here. He nodded, and tried to sit up. Amariel supported him carefully, helping him lean against a tree.

"Are you okay?" He nodded again, and sighed. Amariel collected some herbs from her pack.

"Here," she murmured. "Eat these."

He accepted the herbs with her water pouch, and chewed them before chasing it with water, watching her thoughtfully all along. Finally he leaned forward, getting to his feet. Amariel made sure to help him, but it was not much necessary. He was taller than her, which did surprise her. Royalty were usually taller than the rest, so she and her family were amongst the tallest in their realm. Were noldo in general taller than them? She had a hard time believing that.

The ellon smiled. "Thank you, my lady." He bowed a little to her, and Amariel almost wanted to blush again. Gallantry – well, it was fitting she supposed. He certainly did look highborn, and she might come across as that as well. "May I ask your name?"

At that she paused. Her father had given her careful instructions about this – never give your name to a stranger. She imagined he would add "Particularly not a noldo," if he had thought that situation would ever come up.

"May I ask yours?" she answered instead, smiling at him. There was a pause, then he grinned stepping closer to her. She discreetly took a step away.

"I asked first."

"Is the rule not ladies first?" He laughed softly.

"Sure. Ladies first." He looked at her expectantly, and she realized her own trap. She sighed.

"We should get out of here," she said softly, looking around the forest once more. "I know a safe place we can go." She paused, evaluating him. If he was an enemy, she was helpless. She could tell he knew how to fight, and the sword at his hip was not reassuring. She should have taken it from him, she realized. Then she scoffed at herself. He was an elf. She would take her chances. Either way he looked helpless himself. Other than the sword, he had next to nothing; his pack was torn to pieces, so if anything had survived he was lucky, and he stood lightly favouring his right side, a sure-fire sign she had learned to recognize when somebody was hurt, but hiding it.

He paused when she started moving away, looking back and hesitating. Then he followed her into the forest.

"What are you doing in the King's Wood?" Amariel asked after they'd walked for a while in silence.

"I wasn't in it," the noldo answered. "My patrol and I were pursuing some orcs. In the ensuing fight, I got stuck to a warg and was dragged in here."

"Are you sure you are feeling fine?" Amariel eyed him quizzically. Being dragged after a warg for that long, even with a pack as a buffer, could not have been good for him. He nodded.

"I feel fine. Really, it is quite the miracle." He glanced at her. "And what are you doing in the forest alone?" She took a long time before answering.

"Taking a break," she answered truthfully, feeling his gaze on her. At the prolonged silence she looked back at him, and something must have shown in her eyes for a sudden flash of understanding crossed his and his eyes darkened.

Her eyes were focused on the forest around her, but never once did she let him go out of her line of sight. He seemed to notice her wariness, as he soon started a new conversation, moving on to lighter and safer topics.

They discussed landscapes and animals, friends and perils, and petty fights of their childhood. She had been careful not to reveal her identity, but so did the noldor seem to be, so she supposed fair was fair. By the time they reached her safe spot, she felt more at ease. She pulled out the dorwinion as they sat, and he raised an eyebrow. He did not comment however, and she poured herself a little. She was being careful, she told herself when a spark of guilt ignited once more. She had kept an eye on him the whole trip. He seemed safe though, so she figured she could have a little drink. She had grown thirsty with their walking conversation. One sip could not hurt.

The next glass was not much either. _Really_ , she reasoned, _I have drunk far more before_. She poured the noldo some as well after he made a comment on never having tasted the wine before. That would not do.

When her third glass was drunken, Amariel wasn't feeling much worried anymore. She knew three glasses certainly weren't enough to bring her over the edge, so she figured it must be her instincts telling her that he was not a dangerous elf. She did have a nagging feeling she was forgetting something however. Had she done something at the banquet before she left, that should have affected her drinking? Or perhaps on the way here… She frowned a little as she poured herself another glass. The elf, noldo, whoever he was, reaching out his too for another drink.

"This is good," he murmured from his perch next to her on the blanket. His blanket – it was a wonder it had survived the trip.

"Yea," Amariel grinned, and he grinned back.

Night was falling when they somehow got in a play fight. He had said something about stereotypes, and noldorin fighting. She had challenged him right then and there. Why, she did not know. Usually, she would rarely challenge anyone. Fighting often gave her terrible flashbacks, and brought back memories she'd rather forget. She only sparred with her brother, and only alone. This time, however, there were no moments of recollection. She'd been uneasy on her feet as they fought, and she suspected it might be the alcohol. Strange – she had not taken that much, had she? He did not seem to well on his feet either, but he disarmed her easily either way. Amariel sighed. That had not even been a real fight.

She flopped down on the blanket again, telling him to rematch when she felt better. He only laughed, and lied down next to her, after a while asking her to tell him of their stereotypes about the noldor. And so it was, that they both laid on the ground, side by side in the darkness. Above them a thick canopy of leaves almost blocked out all light, but through it she could see some stars, and a part of a crescent moon. The red light of the fire flickered around the clearing, dancing over the trees and the face of the noldor next to her.

"Well," Amariel murmured quietly, watching as a soft breeze moved the leaves far above them. "Where to begin? I have to warn you though, this is really bad." The noldo nodded.

"I am ready."

"Well, for starters you are all self-centred, arrogant and haughty." The noldo winced playfully. "You all act like the definition of the high and mighty, and we could never reach you on your elevated thrones, which, by the way, you made yourself. Noldo are untrustworthy, dangerous and backstabbing, so never leave one unattended. And as for lifestyle, you place far too much value on the arts and crafts of stone and metal, forgetting about the forest and life around you. _And_ you spend ages writing unnecessary books about legends better transmitted in song!" She glanced indignantly at the noldor when she said the last sentence, fully agreeing with that one. He laughed.

"Ouch" he murmured, rolling over onto his side and looking at her.

"I told you they were bad," Amariel grinned, but he smiled one of his half smiles.

"So are ours. Would you like to hear them, my lady?" the last part was mocking and Amariel smirked, turning onto her side as well to better look at him.

"Oh, I'd love to, my _lord_."

"You Mirkwood elves are unsophisticated and rural. You follow an old way which we have long since evolved from, instead learning to do more, to be more. You are not as wise, and not as fair as we, and you are dangerous and prone to rash actions. You would kill others and place even elves in your dungeons if they displease you, which is considered low by the noldor. And your king is as stubborn as his people, clinging to old traditions and as rash as any of you. Therefore, you have no chance of development in your forest, and you would never become as wise as we, nor gain the beauty that comes with knowledge."

Amariel snorted, very unladylike.

"So basically we are ugly, rural people, wild and uncouth. We're bold but foolhardy and therefore dangerous to be around." The noldo nodded, but paused, studying her.

"That was a good summarizing I guess. But I am not sure I believe the stereotype anymore. You certainly do not fit that description."

"Careful," Amariel said sarcastically, raising the last bottle and shaking it lightly. It was empty. "Or you might end up sounding like you actually like a lowly silvan such as me."

"I do." Amariel stared at the noldo in surprise. In the firelight, his dark locks looked like liquid twilight. She laughed.

"A good one," she murmured. "The oh-so high noldo, interested in one of the ugly, wild…" The noldo straightened, and placing one hand on her other side he leaned over her, forcing her to roll onto her back. He frowned down at her.

"You are not ugly," he said slowly, clearly. "Nor do I find you wild. Not in a negative manner at least." His lips quirked, and Amariels mind reeled, lost in surprise and annoyingly slow.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked and his lips raised once more in that half-smile, his eyes hooded. He leaned closer.

"What do you think, my lady?" Coming from his lips the title sounded soft and nearly sensual, and it reached something deep within her. His gaze flickered across her face, and she realized her breath was coming in quick spurts and making her breast brush his with every breath. She forced her lips to move.

"My, a high and mighty noldo having base salacious thoughts," she murmured. "What would your people say?" He laughed, and she felt it reverberate through her. Then his eyes suddenly lowered.

"Does it matter?" he said quietly. "They cannot reach us now from their high and mighty thrones."

Amariel's breath caught at the implications of those words, even as she felt herself respond more violently than she'd ever felt before. She wanted to, valar she wanted to throw caution and thought to the winds, to be with this noldo who did not treat her as if she was made of porcelain, like the slightest word might wound her and the softest touch break her. To him she was not the shadow princess of Mirkwood, valued but pitied, seen but not heard, protected from the dangers of the outside world. To him she was simply an elleth of the woodland realm. Whole. This stranger, this noldo whom she was taught to be wary of, was in many ways more real than her life had been for centuries, a change to the monotony she'd settled into. She studied him. Black, she decided, so dark it seemed to absorb the firelight and night around them. There was not a hint of brown, nor the slightest tint of color to the deep silver regarding her. He was completely foreign. He was handsome.

He seemed to read her thoughts in her face, and his eyes darkened.

"My family…" She murmured, in a vain attempt to persuade herself. He held still, watching her intently. She shuddered, longing and conflict warring within her, and when she looked up she saw it reflected in his eyes. "They cannot reach us here," she whispered, tracing the slight crease on his brow. He closed his eyes, taking her hand in his. Then his eyes met hers once more.

"You should stop me," he murmured, and slowly he leaned closer until his nose barely brushed hers. "One word and I'll retreat."

She said nothing, and felt him pause, his lips barely brushing hers. "One word," he whispered the warmth of his breath tickling her lips. She felt another shiver race through her, and above her he stilled before beginning to retreat.

In his wake her lips felt cold, and suddenly her stupor was broken.

Reaching a hand around his neck, she pulled him closer, her lips meeting his fully. She felt a small gust of air leave him at her action, and his strong arm brush over her side as he repositioned himself to better kiss her. It was long and sweet and warm, before Amariel finally broke it, pulling away slightly to breathe. When she opened her eyes he was looking at her, face so close their foreheads were touching. Amariel laughed breathlessly.

"Now who is the bold one? And perhaps even foolhardy…" she murmured. For a moment an image of her father scowling flickered through her mind. How angry would he be if he heard of this? Then it immediately evaporated as he laughed, a deep rumble that shot through her body once more.

"Maybe the stereotypes fit us as well as you. We are both foolhardy. But right now," he moved one hand to her cheek, cupping it and then leaning down for another kiss. "I do not care."

His lips met hers once more, warm and soft, and suddenly something broke within her, and she let out a sound, wrapped her hands around him and deepening the kiss. Then suddenly what had begun as an innocent kiss turned more passionate, his lips more demanding. She became imminently aware of his hands at her sides as they wrapped around her back, pulling her closer. When he bit her lower lip lightly, she could not help the soft gasp that escaped. Then suddenly his tongue was in her mouth, peremptorily claiming it for his own. She tasted dorwinion in their kiss. One of his hands went underneath her lower back, and she felt her stomach pressed against his. She was flush against him, trapped between him and the cold blanket, her body aware of every part of him against her. And at that moment, she wanted him. She wanted to be loved by him like she had never wanted before. And so she did not resist when she felt his hands go further down her back. Instead she let one of her own wrap around his torso, revelling in the feel of his strong muscles, and pulling him even closer. And when his hand found the hem of her tunic, she did not stop him.


	2. Chapter 1: Decisions

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 1: Descisions**

Light pierced Amariel's eyelids when she woke, causing her to press a hand to her face. She was lying against something soft and warm, a strong contrast to the cold and rugged ground beneath her. Sitting up slowly, she drew her hand away and let the light into her eyes once more. It seemed so bright, so piercing and clear… then her eyes got used to the light and she realized that was not the case at all. The light around her was soft, only very few beams trickling through the canopy above her, like it was with more or less all of Mirkwood these days. She sighted and stretched, feeling wretched. Her head was hurting, her stomach was aching, she felt ready to throw up, and various other parts of her body hurt from the bad sleeping location. Then suddenly she felt something warm slip off her stomach and land with a soft thud next to her. Her eyes opened immediately and she looked over at the elf next to her. For a moment her mind had trouble comprehending who this was. A noldo, she could tell by the color of his hair. Then her mind slowly caught up, and she remembered being with him the previous night.

"Oh," she mouthed and looked down at herself. She was barely dressed underneath her blanket. The blanket… She could not remember ever having taken a blanket the night before. Then she looked over at the noldo, again. He was dressed, and clean. He must have woken up during the night, she thought, after she had gone to sleep, and dressed himself so he could drape the small blanket fully around her. She smiled. That was sweet.

She reached for his hand that had fallen from her stomach, and placed it in a more comfortable position next to him. She would have done more, but she was hardly presentable herself. Not to mention the headache she was having. She sighted and stood, taking with her now dirty blanket and her clothes. Then she hesitated for a moment. Her headache was becoming worse, but she was a girl of the forest. She knew the bones they had left still had some meat on them, and that smell could attract unwanted visitors to their fireplace while she was gone and he still slept, very vulnerable. Her headache would have to wait, she decided as she draped her clothes and dirty blanket over one hand, then bent to pick up the bones. Suddenly the world tilted, and she dropped her blanket and clothes. She cursed, her headache acting up again. Poorly coordinated, she realized, and cursed herself for the drinks she had the previous night.

Looking for a solution, she spotted her bag, and moved lightly over to it. _I could put the dirty clothes in this_ , she thought with a flicker of victory. And then hang it from her shoulder so she could use both hands to carry the bones! Smiling, she did just that, stumbling a little when she went to the fireplace and grinning when she carried the bones away from the clearing. She would simply bury them nearby, then take a bath in the river, she considered. The bag was a good idea as well. In it, she knew she had supplies for the headache, and next to it she had spotted her bow and arrows. _Those were also good to take_ , she reasoned. _One never knew when self-defense was neccecary in this forest…_ She grinned for a moment, before it melted off her face and was replaced by a scowl as her eyes closed. Her head was hurting. She looked around. Perhaps there were some athelas nearby? She would have to look for that after her bath… Finally she stumbled out of the clearing, heading for the river she knew was near.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Elladan woke to a heavy headache and aching back. He groaned miserably, tilting onto his stomach and sighing, his face buried in the blanket. His mind was addled, slow, and for a while he remained there wondering what had happened. Where was he? He opened one eye, blinking as the sudden light pierced his eyes sending a sharp spike though his head. Mirkwood. What was he doing in Mirkwood? He groaned again, burying his face in the blanket when a soft scent suddenly registered. It was a faded floral scent, and distinctly feminine. Then suddenly Elladan remembered. The warg that had dragged him all the way into Mirkwood before suddenly being shot. The elleth that showed up. Ah, the elleth…

He sat up immediately, looking around the small clearing. There was no sign of her, he realized. He was sitting on the blanket, completely alone in the forest. He tried standing, only to stumble to the nearest tree and take a deep breath. His head was aching, his brain foggy and slow. Elladan squeezed his eyes shut. If someone, or something found him now, he would be completely and utterly helpless.

No sooner had he thought that, than he registered movement at the edge of the clearing. Speak of Morgoth, Elladan thought bitterly and cursed, trying to make his eyes focus. His sword… where was his sword?

"By the valar, look who it is!" Elladans eyes snapped up at the familiar voice, and he looked for a moment in utter surprise as his mirror image strolled into the clearing. He was grinning.

"You, my lord, are far too lucky for your own good." Elladan looked at his second in command, Sadron. "Do you know how worried we have been?"

Iston, another patrol member shook his head. "You lead us all, battered and hungry, on a wild goose chase, and now we find you perfectly fine. How come? Last we saw you, you were disappearing into the forest, into _Mirkwood_ no less, dragged by a warg, and now here you are!" He glanced at the blanket and now dead fire. "Been having a nice nap?"

Elladan shook his head slowly and looked around.

"Where is she?"

They frowned.

"Who?" One patrol member asked.

"The girl… The elleth…" His eyes searched the clearing, looking for any sign of her. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Elrohir and Sadron exchange a look.

"There is no elleth in our patrol, Elladan." Sadron said slowly. Elrohir was making his way over to him.

"Not in our patrol," Elladan said distractedly. "She was silvan, I think…"

He stood unsteadily from the tree he had been leaning on and looked around again. There really was no sign of her, not a single trace of her passing… Elrohir touched his brother's brow. "Are you feeling well, Elladan?"

Elladan blinked. "Yes, I am fine." He tried to take a step, but stumbled. He felt his face go white as his head gave a painful throb. He pressed his hands to his eyes, causing white lights to appear.

"No, you certainly are not." Elrohir said, and all traces of humour in his voice were gone. Elladan looked around again. He would have sworn the elleth was there just last night. She must have left some trace. He would have to take a closer look.

"I'm fine, muindor. I just need to find her… I never got to know her name…" Elrohir supported him as he stumbled to the dead fire.

"Who, Elladan?" He asked wearily. "There is no elleth, nor was there any when we arrived." Elladan did not answer, studying the fire instead. The bones from last night's meal were gone.

"Elladan, think about where we are, muindor nín." When Elladan did not respond Elrohir continued. "This is Mirkwood. It does not make sense for any random elleth to suddenly happen to be here. Especially not alone. You must have been hallucinating."

Elladan frowned.

"No, I was not." He murmured distractedly, looking around the clearing again. "We ate by the fire, right here…" Elrohir frowned.

"And where are the bones?" he asked. He looked around. "Where are her belongings?" Then he looked at the blanket which they had used as a sleeping pad. He scowled.

"Why did you sleep on the ground out in the open like this? Have you not thought about how dangerous that is? And you did it all alone as well…!" He trailed off, his voice incredulous.

Ignoring him, Elladan studied the ground around the fireplace carefully. Or rather, as carefully as he managed when he could barely focus. Finally he answered

"She said it was safe." he gave a long pause, eyes glazing over as he looked at the dead embers. "She was so…" he could not finish as his head gave a particularly bad throb, and he moaned quietly, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Elrohir was right in front of him. His scowl was gone, along with all anger. Instead he looked very worried.

"Elladan, can you hear me? What is the name of our father?" Elladan looked at him for a long time, before answering slowly.

"Elrond…?" His tone made it sound almost like a question, and Elrohir cursed.

"Sadron, get my healing bag. Everybody else, clear the area. We don't want the elves of this forest to know we've been here without their consent." He pulled his brothers hand over his shoulder, and led them to the trees. Sadron caught up with them and handed him his bag. They made Elladan sit at the edge of the clearing, as Elrohir dug through his bag.

"A concussion," Elrohir said in answer to Sadron's questioning look. "He probably got it while being dragged by the foot through the forest. Valar, I should have noticed earlier." He handed Elladan some dried herbs, along with his water pouch. Elladan however, was not cooperating. He put a hand up, refusing the water.

"I do not have a concussion," he said, his words slow. "I felt perfectly fine yesterday. It is probably only the aftereffects of dorwinion." Elrohir frowned.

"Elbereth, please just take the medicine Elladan!" He shoved it at him and Elladan took it. "Like I said, you were hallucinating, or perhaps simply dreaming. I do not know what happened. I have no idea how you managed to finally free yourself from the warg, nor how you killed the thing. What I do know is that the elleth you are talking about was not real! If she was, where are the bones of the meal the two of you enjoyed? Where are the bottles of dorwinion you drank? Where are her belongings? And even more pressing; where is she? If she was real, why would she leave?"

Elladan had no answer, and for a long time he sat in silent thought. Why _would_ she leave? If his memories were right, she should have been lying next to him, wrapped in the blanket he had found in her bag. The bottles of whine would also be in her bag, as he had cleared up a little last night. Why? He'd simply done it. He was not sure why. He pressed his hands to his temples as he watched his patrol clear the area. His only chance to see if she was real, to have definite proof, would be to check the ground. He would have to study the prints carefully and determine whether they all were his, or maybe some belonged to someone else. But that chance was diminishing rapidly before his eyes as the patrol stomped around and swept the area, ruining any prints she might have left.

When one patrol member came up with his blanket, he took it and quickly unrolled it, smelling the fabric. He had caught her scent earlier. Perhaps this was his last chance for proof. But it smelled only of dirt and earth. No trace left of her. He looked up hopelessly as Elrohir carefully took his blanket from him and rewrapped it. He said nothing, but Elladan could see his worry and conviction in his eyes. And somehow, he started to doubt himself.

 _Perhaps they were right_ , he thought as the patrol gathered around them again, Sadron taking the lead while Elrohir and a couple of others cared for Elladan. Maybe she had not been real after all.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Amariel straightened her back, aiming at the target. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then stilled, keeping her bow held as solidly as possible. The sharp twang sounded by her ear, then the arrow lodged itself in the target ahead, missing the center. Even so, it was her best shot yet this day.

She sighed deeply, lowering her bow and staring at her intended target in dismay. It was rather large, and yet she had not managed to hit the center even once today. Behind her Legolas was sitting quietly, watching.

"You're not focused, sister." Amariel turned to him.

"I am centered on the task at hand," she claimed, but Legolas stood, shaking his head.

"Nay, you are not." He moved closer to her, her twin knives in his hands. They had been practicing with them earlier today, and her performance had left much to be desired there as well. Amariel blushed at the memory of her quick defeat.

"You are usually skilled with these," Legolas commented as he handed them to her. "as you usually do well with a bow. And yet today you miss the target, and I disarmed you so easily I would have thought you had no training at all." He turned inquisitive eyes on her. "What bothers you so?"

"I…" Amariel swallowed. It was not like she could tell him the reason of her distraction. How would she explain her situation? What if her tests had been false? She did not want to tell him. Not unless she had to.

Legolas frowned at her, but a sudden voice interrupted whatever he wanted to say.

"Prince Legolas! Princess Amariel!" She turned as the ellon neared, recognizing Avormen a solder of the royal guard. He was well acquainted with the royal family, hence the familiar terms. He said her name with a tinge of surprise. "I did not think I would find you on the training fields at this hour, particularly not you, princess." He studied her curiously, a spark of hope in his eyes. "Are you taking up fighting again?"

"Nay!" She said quickly, before she caught herself. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her sudden reaction and Amariel felt the all-too familiar heat in her cheeks.

"Umm… What I meant was… I had no intention of taking up my previous… occupation… I only…" She fumbled for words, all of a sudden feeling nervous under his eyes. She hoped fervently he would not try to invite her to a friendly duel, now that they were here. It was a common thing, yet she doubted she was ready for it. Not yet.

"Well, you certainly intended something as you both are here. May I join you?"

Her glance of alarm at her brother was hidden by the curtain of her hair.

"I fear we have just finished for today," Legolas responded smoothly, answering her silent call for help. "We were just packing our things." Seeing the other's disappointment, he smiled.

"Come, I could do with a little more training. Will you join me for a friendly duel?" Avormen's eyes lighted up at being offered to fight his prince and general, and he accepted the offer vigorously. When he moved off to collect weapons at the armory, Legolas turned to Amariel once more.

"You still will not fight any others," he said with dismay. When Amariel did not answer, he shook his head.

"I understand your fear Amariel, but it has been centuries!"

"But what would you have me do?!" Amariel stared at him in chagrin. "You know it still feels too close… What if I loose, and it stirs up my memories… What if I have a moment of recollection?"

Legolas frowned. "And yet you cannot keep running from your fears forever. One day you will have to face them."

"Who says I have to?" She shot back, suddenly feeling angry. "Why do I have to fight? There is no need, I am a highborn lady after all. I can live a peaceful life."

"Inside?" Legolas asked incredulously. "You would live a life, safe and sound within the elvenkings halls, never to travel to any other lands? To live out your days in Mirkwood, cooking and sewing, knitting and painting. You would learn couture and etiquette, so you can make beautiful dresses and speak kindly with other nobles. One day you might be responsible for our guest's welfare, another you would spend your time managing the household, helping with paperwork and aiding in the rule of the kingdom. Do you realize what kind of life that would be?

Perhaps you might be allowed to walk freely in the cities to speak with the people, or even go for a ride once in a while, but it would be a rare occurance and always with a proper escort to ensure your safety. And then life would go back to the way it was, weaving, tending gardens, embroidering and cleaning. I know you well enough to know that is not a life you would enjoy, Amariel. Even now you chafe at customs and duties, can you imagine how this would be once you have fully decided on your course?"

When she did not respond Legolas shook his head, frustrated with her. "Such a course of action would be folly, muinthel! Either way, your fears would catch up with you in the end. Do you not think you will meet another human being again, perhaps? Or ever have to defend yourself?"

Amariel shook her head, looking at the ground in shame. Legolas' rant was followed for a while with silence.

"I'm sorry," Amariel said finally, and Legolas deflated. He pulled her close, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I only worry about you," he said finally, voice soft and strangely tired. "I would not see you hurt, yet the path you choose cannot lead to anything else."

"But can't you see?" Amariel asked, her voice quavering. "I can't face my memories, yet I cannot let go of the past." She pulled back, looking at him with bright eyes. "It leaves only one choice, if I never want to see people of that kind again. Mirkwood is safe. I know humans will never come far into this forest."

Legolas remained quiet for a while, looking at her with brooding eyes. "Which is why you deem it safe enough to explore the forest alone." He surmised, and Amariel stiffened, suddenly reminded of the reason she had been worrying earlier this day. Legolas looked at her with a mix of anger and weariness, then sighed.

"Ai, Amariel," he lamented quietly. "you will be the death of us all." Amariel only bowed her head once more and looked away. Suddenly she noticed Avormen, waiting at a respectfull distance well out of earshot. She wondered how long he had waited.

Legolas' eyes followed hers and she heard a soft chuckle. She turned back to see him smiling wistfully. "He finally made it out of the armory, I see." He commented quietly, only for her ears. She met his eyes once more, not sure what to say to that and he sighed.

"You should go then, muinthel," he said tiredly. "If you are sure you will tread this path. The minstrels await you." Amariel could only nod, and he turned and walked over to the other elf.

Soon they were immersed in battle, skillfully exchanging thrusts and parries, moving lightly about the field. Her brother had already gained the upper hand, she saw, though Avormen might not be aware of it yet. With a sigh she turned and headed off the field.

She knew she had to meet in the Silver-Chamber soon, where she would be expected to practice the arts of song and dance. But there was something she had to do first.

She made her way to the Green Forest on the north eastern section of the palace, making some shortcuts along the way. Soon she was deep within, listening to the melodies that floated through the air, birdsong and laughter reaching her from afar. The sounds lifted her spirits as they reminded her of Greenwood the Great, the joyous place this forest had once been. Even so, worry snaked itself through her when she finally recognized the plant she had been looking for.

Taking a deep breath, she plucked a couple of the leaves and studied them pensively. This was the moment of truth, she knew. The leaves in her hands were pale green, deceptively innocent looking. With mildly shaking hands, she lifted them to her mouth and chewed. The by now familiar flavour of the leaves filled her mouth. This was the third time she'd tasted it this week.

She glanced around quickly, listening carefully for intruders. When she was sure there were nobody around she closed her eyes, praying quietly for the leaves to remain unchanged. Then she spit them into her hand and looked. Her stomach dropped. The leaves had turned dark green, with tinges of blue; just like the previous two plants she'd chewed. Amariel sighed, leaning back against the tree she sat under. She could no longer deny it. The three tests she'd done all showed the same thing: she was pregnant.

The thought alone sent chills of apprehension down her back. She had been a virgin until only recently, thus she knew who the father must be: the noldor of the forest. And yet the thought struck her as impossible.

For days she had wondered whether or not he existed, whether he might have been a dream or some hallucination brought on by the alcohol. There had been no sign of him when she returned, and so she had finally come to the conclusion that he had been a figment of her imagination. Yet today, a full and a half moon later, she realized it had been real. She'd met a stranger in the forest, and become pregnant. With a final glance at the dark green leaves, she turned and wiped of her hands, pulling some plants and leaves to hide the evidence.

She was pregnant with a stranger. The thought kept repeating itself in her head, reminding her of the severity of the situation. Had she been a commoner, the daughter of a gatherer perhaps, this would have been bad enough. Had she been a mere noble, it would have been worse. But a princess, the only daughter of the king of Mirkwood? She could only imagine the consequences if this was known through the kingdom. The daughter of their king lost her virtue to a stranger?

It was a great dishonor to her family, and a scandal to the crown. Particularly with the darkness threatening the kingdom from the south, the ever increasing masses of orcs and spiders encroaching upon their realm. They needed a stern, steadfast king, one that could handle such occurrences and protect the people. What would they think then, if he could not even protect his own daughter's virtue? What would they think when he was unable to control even his own kin? She knew well of the nobles in the realm that wanted power. Some of them had support even within the king's closest counsellors.

Their kingship had been short after all, started, as it was by Oropher, her own grandfather, and so, even though they were of higher birth than any other sindar in the realm, it did not automatically give them the right to rule, nor the support of the people. This especially became a problem after her father married her mother. She was silvan and avari, none of which people viewed nobility as the eldar did. They followed strength, any who had power enough of mind and body to resist the darkness and protect them. Such things often were often inherited, yet it was not always the case, and thus, even though her mother came of a line of leaders, she was not counted as nobility and therefore considered unfit to marry Thranduil by many sindar.

Amariel shook her head slowly, an expression of deep dismay forming on her face. Nay, their situation was far too delicate for her to disturb it with a scandal. Particularly in these perilous times when the realm needed a strong leader more than ever.

And yet, what was she to do? An elven pregnancy lasted a full year, so she knew she would have about 5 cycles of the moon until her baby became doubtlessly apparent. From this day that would be about 3 and a half moons until the realm would knew about her, whether she willed it or not. She doubted their situation would be any less dire then than it was now.

The thought passed her by, that she could maybe fully avoid detection. For a moment she considered dressing as a commoner or hiding in the palace, but she quickly dropped the idea. People would question why she suddenly would not come out to be amongst them, and given that she needed food and water the truth would come out some day, some way. As for dressing as a commoner, where would she go? Her father would not condone such actions, and if she slipped out of the palace and mingled with the people, a search would quickly have begun after her. She knew well her appearance was much too distinct to stay hidden long: For one, she had inherited much of her appearance from her mother, who was well known amongst both silvans and avari, and her father's thick eyebrows and piercing stare. If not those similarities to two prominent figures were enough, she would be found by her brown hair that paled to blonde in streaks and along the tips. It was a distinct sign of mixed sindar and silvan/avari heritage, and unions of that kind were few and far in between. She could easily be picked out amongst children of such pairs. In other words, there was no hiding in Mirkwood.

Ai, valar, Amariel lamented, feeling a bout of self-pity and worry. What would she do then? She could not tell her family or any other of her plight for fear of destabilizing an already delicate situation, and yet she could not hide it as the child could not remain hidden.

She thought of the father, wondering if he knew about, or even cared for the child. For a moment she felt angry at him. He had impregnated her, then left her and the child to their own devices! A moment later the anger abated as she actually remembered the situation. She imagined he had drunk a little as well. After all, it was she who had served him dorwinion. And then, if only one elf actively did not wish for conception, it would be enough to prevent such a situation from arising. Perhaps he assumed she would stop such an occurrence from happening. Usually there was more reason for a female to actively prevent conception than a male elf, thus perhaps he had thought she would prevent it. Either way she was as much to blame for this as he.

She sighed, and pressed her hands into her eyes, seeing stars appear. As they receded his face appeared once more, branded into her memory as it were. She frowned and was about to open her eyes when suddenly an idea registered.

She could not prevent her secret from being spilled, but she could lessen the damage it would make when it did come out. The thought brought her new hope, and once more she saw him in her mind's eye, smiling at her. She could find this elf, she thought. Learn of his name and perhaps tell him of her plight. Then at least, the princess would not have been with a complete stranger.

But then again he was a noldo. She frowned a little in dismay at the complications that brought forth, yet there was nothing for it. She saw no other viable option. She was going to Rivendell.

 **Author's note**

Hi again, and thank you for reading! I have gotten some followers which I honestly did not expect, so I am glad you enjoyed this story.

Tibblets: Thank you! I agree, and I do not think Tolkien considered it quite realistic either. Rather, I think the elves were his imagined "perfect people" and as a devout catholic that meant abstinence I guess.


	3. Chapter 2: Plans and Diversions

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 2: Plans and diversions**

She was considering how she could get to Rivendell, what she would do to make her absence less suspicious, when suddenly a sharp shout reached her.

" _Lady Amariel!"_ Her head snapped up in surprise to see Nindis, her dancing master, followed by the talented Liria, lead minstrel of the royal household. Her stomach dropped. She'd completely forgotten about her lessons today.

"Where exactly have you been? What are you doing? Did you perhaps forget your lessons today, _miss_?!" Amariel winced. Nindis, who was a very proper lady, would never use profane words and thus "sully herself" as she would say. Hence, naming Amariel, a lady, only "miss" was crass indeed for her childhood mentor.

"I…" She wondered how to explain herself. Nindis however, was not particularly interested in anything she wanted to say.

"A lady should show up to any given appointment on time! Your actions are erroneous! Or perhaps you do not think our lessons worth your time?" Her voice turned low and threatening when she spoke the last sentence, and Amariel shook her head emphatically.

"Offcourse not!" she exclaimed, but Nindis only huffed, turning gracefully and looking in another direction, as if even the sight of Amariel was an insult. Amariel turned to Liria hopelessly, looking for aid. Atleast she knew Liria would not shout at her as Nindis had done, for she was as soft in words as she was in song, and considered rash words and angry tones detrimental to the voice. If her beautiful sound was anything to go by, perhaps she was right. But Liria only looked at her thoughtfully.

"Is that a matter of course?" she asked at length, her voice soft and as always devoid of anger. Amariel hesitated, unsure of what she could be turning to.

"What?"

"Do you truly think our lessons are valuable?"

She was about to respond "off course" again, but the sincerity of the question made her pause. Did she truly think these lessons were of any worth? Dancing and singing? When she really thought about it her honest answer would be no. Fighting lessons were valuable. Cartography. Reading, writing, balance training and archery practice. They were all actions that directly or indirectly benefited her and the people. But a pretty dance? A nice song? That was empty entertainment.

Liria read her answer from her face. At her saddened look, Amariel blurted, "But singing is the best way of transmitting a story!" Liria smiled, yet it was still saddened and thoughtful.

"Story telling," she repeated. "Is that truly all the value you see in singing?" Amariel wracked her brain for something, but she came up with little. She saw it as entertainment. That was the simple truth.

At her lack of response, Liria turned to Nindis.

"I know the lesson today was meant to be primarly dance," she said softly. "But would you mind if we sing this lesson instead?"

Nindis huffed. "Offcourse. I'd rather you take this lesson than I watch her stumble around like a dwarf!"

The last part was smoothly ignored as Liria turned once more to Amariel.

"Well then," she said. "I guess it is well that we met you here. The forest is a good example of what you will learn today." She paused for a while, considering her words and looking around the glade. It was truly beautiful, Amariel realized, now that she was torn from her worry and brooding. The ground was covered in plants and flowers, the trees around them ancient, their stems grown with greenery and the air fresh.

"Do you know how we keep this forest so beautiful and pure, while the rest is poisoned and rots?" Liria asked at length.

Amariel shook her head. She had wondered several times, but never actually gotten around to asking.

"By the power of the elves?" she guessed, going for the explanation she had heard before. "Through precious artifacts made in the elder days which transmit such power?"

"Right and wrong," Liria said. "There were once made many objects that could influence surroundings and give the user varying skill and power. But that was a long time ago, and primarily made by the noldor who love to craft stone and the like. But few such artifacts of any power remain, and as you could guess the noldos have the large majority of the remainders as it was they who made them.

Thus, it would not surprise me if the two other remaining elven realms, Lothlorien and Imladris, both led by noldos, are at least partly protected by powerful heirlooms. Considering their leaders, the lady Galadriel and lord Elrond, it would indeed surprise me if they did not have any powerful items to aid their realms, particularly when both have such reputations for being light and otherworldly. But my question was how we protect our realm. What of Mirkwood, led by sindar royalty with a silvan and avari majority? Indeed, how did silvans and avari protect themselves from encroaching darkness in those times when the sindar and noldor lived in realms protected by the power of artifacts and a maia?"

To that Amariel had no answer. She wanted to say that perhaps they did not protect themselves, but then why had elven homes gained a reputation of being light harmonious places, when the majority of elves where teleri descendants who did not delve stone nor marry powerful beings. Then she remembered the object of the lesson – song.

"By singing?" she blurted, her voice heavily coloured by the disbelief she felt. When Liria smiled and nodded, Amariel could only stare.

"That cannot be the case!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?" Liria asked curiously.

"Because singing… Well, because…" Amariel could go no further, partly because she was not sure why herself, partly because she did not want to wound Liria or belittle her lessons. Singing was as an activity to flaunt your skill, tell stories of past or present, and even flirt. Not to protect lands and fight darkness.

Liria seemed to read her mind. She made no comment on it however, and turned instead, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Listen, Amariel. What do you hear?"

Curiously, Amariel did as she was bid. Once more she heard the melodies of the forest, the laughter that she'd noted earlier on. She was about to ask Liria what she should be listening to in particular, when something struck her suddenly. The melodies she'd heard, which she first automatically interpreted as typical forest sounds, the singing of birds, the rustle of leaves, the soft melody she always felt emanating from the trees themselves were not only so. Behind the sounds there were voices, beautiful and enchanting, yet discreet and soft, taking a background position whilst supporting and strengthening all other forest sounds. And when she listened more intently she realized she could interpret the words. They were in a mix of the ancient silvan and avari languages, and the voices spoke of light, beauty and happiness, the joy of living in a forest teeming with life, and recalled the beauty of Greenwood the Great in it's prime. And as if responding to the sweet words, the trees echoed the beautiful voices, emanating invisible light and peace. Amariel's eyes widened.

"They're singing," she murmured finally, in a daze at realizing something that should not have eluded her for so long. "They're singing and the forest responds." She turned to Liria in wonder.

"It is thus then," she whispered. "That is how the silvans and avari have fought the darkness?"

In answer Liria turned to the forest and closed her eyes, a smile upon her lips. Then she sang, and her voice, widely acknowledged as the fairest in Mirkwood, filled the glade, never missing a note and never faltering in words nor melody. As she sang, it felt as if a light balm of peace and contentment had been smeared over them all and the surrounding forest. Words slowly abated until she was simply singing a pure melody filled with her emotions, hopes and dreams. As if in a haze before her, Amariel saw fleeting images of thick, lush forests, smiling faces, faint strings of songs, even an open sky as far as the eyes could see, specked with thousands of stars. And the experience sundered her at a loss of words.

She was no by no means stranger to the potency of elven songs, nor the mind's images that would be forthcalled, woven together by the song whether one understood the words sung or not. But never had they been this potent. Usually the images brought in by the song would be limited to her mind. She would hear whispers of ancient words spoken, a birdcall uttered thousands of years ago, and see in her mind's eye images that had long since passed from this world, yet it would always be clear that it was her imagination only. This was different. This was real, present here and now. It was as if Liria's song had actually brought fourth the memories of the past, and reawakened them in the world around them. Faintly she could hear extictinct birds sing in the woods, laughter that was not there before. And the trees actually responded, reawakening a soft memory of Greenwood the Great, and other idyllic forests that she had never seen before. For one moment the leaves of the trees glittered gold, a testament to Liria's time in Lothlorien, a place Amariel had never been. And with these memories came a feeling of beauty and an idyllic atmosphere, a mysteriousness and a potency of peace that Amariel had never felt before. The song continued, rising and sinking, and with it the feeling strengthened and set, and Amariel instinctively closed her eyes and enjoyed the harmonious atmosphere she had never before experienced. Then, all too soon, the song ended. Amariel slowly opened her eyes in wonder to see Liria smiling at her, albeit somewhat tiredly. The forest around them still felt surreal, thrumming with life and light and resonating with echoes of Liria's song.

For a while Amariel could not find any words. Neither did she want to speak, for the feeling that had settled upon the clearing was one off soft bliss, and she did not want to disturb it lest it should disappear with her voice. Then finally she spoke. "How did you… What…"

"I sung," Liria responded simply. When Amariel only stared at her she smiled sweetly. "It was a song of power, mellon nin. One of many that are sung every day in Mirkwood, lest it should fall into darkness."

"A song of power?" Amariel repeated amazedly. "Like the one Finrod Felagund sang when he fought Sauron in the elder days?"

Liria's laugh was like the twinkling of bells.

"Aye, and yet nay. He sang one as well, but I would never dare compare myself or my songs to his skill and strength. Remember that he lived in the elder days, a time when the power of elves was not yet diminished, and he was a noldo. Ever have they been the stronger of mind and body, and he was their king."

Amariel paused, mulling her words. "Does that then mean that they all sing better than us?" she asked, a trace of jealousy in her voice. Liria was known as the fairest singer of Mirkwood, yet she was sindar, not noldor. Would that then mean that even she was less skilled than the noldor, simply by birth? It did not seem fair that one race should be stronger that way, simply because. But Liria shook her head.

"In the old writings it is written that in Hithlum and Beleriand, the sindar and noldor became as one people. Yet the difference remained that the noldor had the greater power of mind and body, while the sindar had the fairer voices and were more skilled in music.* So it was then, and so it has ever been, though the difference is not only between the noldor and the sindar. We elves of telerin descent have always been the more skilled singers, silvans and avari included."

Amariel frowned in confusion. "But if we are the fairer singers, why then will you not compare your song to the one of Finrod?"

"Ah, we finally get to the most important point," Liria said. "A song of power differs in many ways from a normal song. It is more demanding, takes more energy of the singer. That is because the song is not accomplished by mere skill of voice alone, though a fair voice provides a better startingpoint and a better and more flexible "channel" for power, so to speak. They are more demanding because they are not only sung, they are felt as well. They are songs of spirit, songs of memory, and the energy one transmits through the song has to come from the bearer. That is why we might be fairer of voice, but the noldor, with more power of mind, _could_ make the stronger songs."

" _If_ they have a fair and skilled enough voice," Amariel finished wonderingly. "Otherwise they would not have a proper "channel" with which to transmit their power."

Liria smiled yet it had turned a little sad.

"Indeed," she said. "And today there are few noldor who wield this power. Ever have they preferred stone and hillsides to forests and songs, hearkened less to the beauty of living melodies, like that of the rivers and forests, and more to the beauty of stars and wrought stone, sought deep wisdom instead of enjoying the simple pleasures of the world. That is why we also call them the deep-elves. And yet, for all their wisdom, this aspect of it has waned. As they have become more intent on transmitting power through objects, they have neglected the skill of transmitting it through song. As they have written books to better preserve knowledge, their skill in transmitting stories through song has slowly waned. They still do sing, but their songs are often of great battles of the past, longing for Aman and the beauty and happiness of cities they have created. Few are their songs simply enamouring middle earth, the life in it, with no thought to deep wisdom or lore, the great past or foreseen future."

At her words Amariel remained silent for a while. Then she sighed.

"I would never be able to sing one such song, though." She said sadly. It required strength, and she had none. She knew that all too well. But Liria only laughed once more.

"Why would that be?" She asked lightly. "In the lands of the noldor this skill might have waned, but in Mirkwood, the lands of the avari and silvans, it is stronger than ever before. It is how we have survived, and thus we have practiced it and bettered our techniques. And you, lady Amariel, have learned those techniques through many years, though you have not been aware that they are also used in songs of power."

Amariel stared at her for a long moment, dumbstruck. "My lessons?" she asked in wonder. Liria nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Offcourse. Did you think we would not teach such a crucial skill in singing?"

"But then… Why have I never felt the forest responding?" Amariel asked. "Why have I never felt it change in the way it did when you sang?"

"Because you have never truly tried." When Amariel looked at her questioningly Liria continued, "You have not truly believed in the power or even value of song. Thus, when you sang, you have never truly put your mind to it. You never poured all your emotions into your songs, never envisioned the places you sang of, nor tried to transmit or emulate them in the melody. You have merely been on the technical level of singing, and as we have well established a song of power needs more, not only skill."

For a while Amariel looked at her in silence, feeling a little stupid. She had always seen herself as dutifully participating in her lessons to the best of her ability, skilled in hiding her discontent. Now she realized that Liria had been seeing through her act all along, as Nindis most likely also had. She'd been painfully obvious, and completely unaware.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, feeling like she was repeating those words all too often today. Liria only smiled softly, and cupped her cheek. Then she stepped back.

"Well, there's always a first, and this is a good place to try practicing. Try now, Amariel, try to pour yourself into the song. Feel the emotions of the memories you are transmitting. Breathe the air of the places you have been. Let yourself go back into the places you sing of, and the forest around will follow."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

When the lesson was finally over Amariel found herself tiredly walking out of the forest. It had been a draining lesson today, which only proved further how little she had truly tried in earlier lessons.

She reached the side-gates, and in a moment the sounds and smells of the forest were exchanged with the quiet labyrinth of the palace caves. She took a deep breath of the cool, clear air before moving on, navigating the familiar twist and turns. Soon the thin network of caves opened to a massive chamber, with stone pillars wrought to the likeness of trees. She looked up thoughtfully at the stone bridges above her leading from caves at random levels. Towards the top, at the very back, she knew the giant throne of her father loomed, built after the death of Oropher. It had been a response to the death of their leader and two thirds of their army. It was a throne built to show strength and independence, a throne built to compensate for their loss. In a way it was Mirkwood's declaration of independence from the other realms, a testament to the change in the hearts and mind of the people.

And yet at first Thranduil had been hesitant to use the throne. He considered a king who needed a throne to show his power a weak king. It reminded him of the very thing his father had always criticized the noldor for, the delusions of grandeur and power. But he began using it eventually, particularly after the darkness returned, and the diminished army of their people were not enough to protect the realm.

Then suddenly a familiar face caught her attention; Curunir, the retired general, and a very close family friend was walking along one of the upper bridges. Amariel smiled, one of her pressing questions automatically answered. Her family trusted Curunir, just as she did. If she was to travel to Rivendell with someone…

Ignoring the steps along the wall, she jumped quickly from the bridge and caught the nearest column. From there she quickly scaled to the very top and stepped onto a bridge, her eyes on Curunir. An elf sidestepped to give her space, then seeing who she was smiled and bowed before moving on. She smiled back at him, then moved her eyes back to Curunir. He made a right turn, then disappeared into a cave. He must be heading home, she realized. Moving as quickly as she could without seeming suspicious, she walked after him. When she reached the small cave he'd entered, he was long gone. Making a quick decision, she navigated quickly to his home, and soon the caves opened once more to a large hall, but this time illuminated by sunlight trickling through the see-through stone they'd found when they first made this chamber. In the distance a waterfall was heard, cascading down stone formations in the room. But they were of little interest, as she looked along the walls. Trees actually grew here, mingling once more with decorative tree-like columns, and in them homes were built, hundreds of them spanning the room at almost random levels. She made her way carefully to the one she knew belonged to Curunir. Praying he was the only one at home at this moment, she knocked.

For a while nothing happened. Then movement sounded behind the door and it opened. Curunir stood there, looking at her. He seemed surprised.

"Lady Amariel?" he exclaimed. "It is so late! What brings you here at this hour?" she hesitated momentarily, then she glanced around.

"Could we speak somewhere more private?" Curunir frowned, but after only a moment's pause, beckoned her inside and lead her to his private study. The walls there were lined with maps and drawings of Mirkwood, traced and dotted with patrol patterns and posts, spider nests and orc spottings. Being very thorough, Curunir had always kept previous maps when the paths changed as the darkness forced them to, so that he could see the patterns over the years and perhaps predict where spiders would make their new nests and where the darkness would spread. When Legolas took over the post of general centuries ago, he had continued the practice and sent Curunir a copy of newer maps so that he might continue to help and advise him. Thus, Amariel could now see a timeline of Mirkwood, beginning with Greenwood the great, with a patrol pattern that barely changed for centuries upon centuries. It was a clean, clear map with only a thin layering of patrols and barely any orc or spiders. And then ending with Mirkwood as it was today, many more maps representing the past millennium as they had been forced to change the patrols constantly, and all dotted and lined with red, black and purple markings representing orc, spiders and the spread of darkness and sickness in the forest. She knew all these by heart as she'd been forced to learn them to make her "excursions" possible, but seeing them here side by side, seeing the decline of her forest saddened her immensely. And it also made her more sure of her decision. No, she could not burden her family and kingdom with a scandal at this time.

Curunir moved to half sit on his desk then looked at her with concern, waiting while she studied his maps. Then a hand on her cheek drew her attention back to Curunir. "Please, child. Tell me what ails you? Does your father know?"

Amariel shook her head. She was by no means a child anymore, but to Curunir, who had known both her and her father as young elves, she was and always would be his little girl.

"Nobody knows," she said carefully, "and nobody must know. That is why I want to speak with you. But you have to promise me not to tell anybody."

"Anybody?" Curunir looked at her suspiciously. "Not even your father?"

"Particularly not him." For a long time Curunir remained silent.

"Curunir -" she began, reckognizing that look.

"I cannot."

"But you haven't even heard what I would say." He was the only one she could think of that she trusted enough, knew the world outside, and her family trusted enough that he would not be grievously punished for helping her travel to Rivendell.

"It would not matter. I cannot make that promise Amariel."

"Please, you must understand -" She trailed off.

"Understand what?" Curunir fastened her with a blazing look.

"I need your help." Amariel reiterated, meeting his eyes imploringly. "Please. Curunir, you are the only one I would in this."

"Why?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Why?" Amariel threw her hands up, feeling frustration mingle with an unwelcome sense of helplessness. Because you would speak to my father, she wanted to say. Because we would be creating a new burden to lay on my father's shoulders when he is straining as it is, when it is the last thing we need. She would not be a burden.

"Promise."

"To speak of this matter to no other, not even your father." Curunir watched her steadily. "You know I cannot, Amariel. I have a duty to your father, both as my good friend and my king. I will not keep something from him, particularly not concerning his own daughter."

Amariel blinked, looking away from his piercing gaze, and once more her eyes landed on the maps on the wall. After watching Megor and his group manipulate elves left and right, Amariel had made it a point to avoid using the same base tacticts, seeing in them the potential for much misuse and abuse. But in to protect her family, her kingdom...?

"What of your duty to me, as your friend and your princess?" She said carefully, thinking quickly. "You serve my father's best interests, and you say your duty is both to your king and your friend. Would it not be in the best interest of all involved if their princess was safe and sound? Would it not be the best for Thranduil, both as my father and as my king."

At that he studied her pensively. "Are you implying that you are in danger, Amariel?"

For a moment her mind snapped back to a purity sindar meeting she'd spied on a mere week ago. She shook her head.

"Not immediate. But I will be." The road was dangerous.

When he hesitated once more, she took a chance, realizing it was her last hope.

"I am leaving, Curunir." At that his eyes suddenly snapped to hers, his face slack in surprise.

She gave him a moment, and when he looked as if he was about to speak, held up a hand. It was shaking, but her voice was somehow steady.

"I will not tell you where I'm going unless you promise to help me. I will be leaving, preferably soon, and there is nothing you can do to stop me so do not even try. I know these as well as anyone in the kingdom," she motioned to the maps on the walls, "and I know every escape from the palace. You know that. All I'm asking is that you help me. Either way I'm leaving, with or without you."

The silence was deafening. Curunir lowered his gaze,his shoulders tense. Finally he looked up once more, and Amariel knew. The breath she'd been holding came out of her silently and she turned to the door. Just when her hand landed on the handle, he spoke.

"Please don't. Don't make me do this." She looked back at him, knowing what he would not say. Do not force me to hunt you, to take you in against your will. Do not make adversairies of us. He would not help her. She knew he wouldn't, but even so she had to try. There were tears in her eyes.

"You leave me no choice." Even as the words left her mouth she saw his body lower slightly, knees flexing as his shoulders tensed.

But she was prepared, and a moment later she was outside, slamming the door shut on him even as he reached for her. Then she leapt down the open area, ignoring the few surprised looks she got until she was at the tunnel leading away from the large open space. There she stopped and looked back. Curunir was just outside his door, watching her. There were elves between them, all of whom pretended not to have seen her sudden burst of speed, the wetness in her eyes. She was the broken princess, the one whom they'd turned a pitying eye on. She could run and cry, she could hide and escape the palace alltogether and they'd turn a blind eye. Curunir could not. And he could certainly not pursue her openly, not without attracting too much attention. Inside that room had been his only easy shot at stopping her, and they both knew it. The understanding passed between them, even over such a long distance, and she could see him frowning, his expression imploring from afar. She turned away, heading back through the tunnels alone.

Numbness stole through her. She would not risk taking or even asking anybody else for help. She needed someone experienced, trustworthy and without family to care for. She needed somebody stable, somebody she trusted with her secret and the safety of her unborn child. Someone to support her through the lands that belonged to humans of the worst kind. Someone to protect her if she failed again as she once had...

Nay.

The humans were long gone. There were only orcs, easily avoided in sunlight, and hidden from at nighttime. Closing her eyes momentarily, she banished the fears from her mind. She would have to go alone, which meant she would need the supplies.

Walking quickly, she passed the throne, and soon entered the royal quarters. The familiar cave opened once more to a medium sized cavern, this one much smaller than the others. In no time, she'd crossed it and reached one of the doors at the end. There, she hesitated once more.

She was aware that she'd have to leave soon if she was to escape the palace. After all she'd been stupid enough to tell Curunir, clinging with both hands to that faintest of possibilities of help. He would probably tell the guards to keep an eye out for her, making escape hard. But she also knew she could not leave without warning her family. They would worry immediately and send out search parties after her. In the end that would undermine the very reason she left quietly for Rivendell in the first place – to not unbalance an already precarious situation. And so she had to give them a pretence, one that would save her enough time to find her lover.

Taking a deep breath, she turned, then walked over to the door she knew belonged to Legolas' room. He answered on her second knock, and quietly she entered. As usual, his room resembled that of Curunir in the maps and figures hanging on the walls, except his also had drawings of weapons, defence posts and the like, plus a large painting of their family. She drew her eyes quickly away when they met those of her mother, her green eyes so alike to her own. Instead, she looked at the desk to see another blonde elf was lounging by it.

"Aglar?" she blurted in surprise, and he grinned, icy blue eyes lighting up.

"Hey, Mel." Her smile slipped. Growing up her brothers' nickname for her had been Celemiw, meaning quick/hasty, tiny one, referring to her constant excitement and curiosity as a child. She always complained about it, and kept the hope that she grow out of the nickname altogether when she reached adulthood. Instead, Aglar, in true brotherly fashion, had said she would always remain his little sister, but altered the name a little to invalidate her complaints. Celemiw became Celemel, meaning hasty stained one, in reference to the soiled knees and twigs that always used to be in her hair after her strenuous activities. Both he and Legolas had agreed that it was a very fitting name indeed, and so it had stayed, hence the shortened version of "mel." She remembered several ellons once commenting on the name in their presence, except they had changed it once more to Celemed, meaning shapely one instead. That had not gone down well with her brothers, and the next time she saw them many were bruised, and they retreated the moment she came near. For some reason, the thought made her smile.

"You know I hate that name muindor."

"Sure you do."

Legolas grinned at her from the other side of the desk, and instantly she knew some funny remark was about to be made on her expense.

"Actually," she said quickly, cutting off his comment. "I was here to tell you something." She hesitated and looked around. "Is there anybody else in here?"

For a moment her brothers shared a look, then Legolas shook his head. "There is only Aglar and I," he said. "He was here to compare some notes on orc and spider movement, that the traders might come home safely."

Amariel nodded, her eyes finally finding the desk. There were even more maps and some paperwork spread out on it. And then her eyes landed on something that made her stiffen for just a moment. Another map had been pulled out of the pile Legolas kept, momentarily cast aside. It showed the north of Mirkwood and the mountains, even the rivers and a great area on the other side. And there, to the very left of the map, marked in small, black letters – Imladris. Her heart jumped at seeing it. Seeing as she was going alone, she needed a map, and did not keep any of the areas outside Mirkwood herself. She had to acquire one, but suddenly asking for one at the library would certainly arouse questions she would not answer. This one on the other hand... Surely, Legolas would not miss a map of the misty mountains? And if he did, he could have another copy drawn from the one in the small library Mirkwood kept. He wouldn't mind if she simply… borrowed this one?

"Amariel?" Legolas asked, and her eyes snapped up. "What was it you would tell us?" For a moment Amariel hesitated, once more unsure of her choice. Then she shook her head.

"I was planning to move to our relatives for a while." Silence met her statement.

"Our relatives?"

"You mean nana's family?"

She nodded, discreetly moving closer to the desk. They were quiet for a moment.

"You do realize how far away that is?" Aglar said, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Aye."

"And you would go anyway?"

"Aye. Like I said, I would like to visit our family."

"That is not a simple visit, Amariel." Legolas warned. "They live in a dangerous area, all the way on the other side of the forest road. The travel time there alone… it would take you a couple of weeks at the very least considering all the detours you would have to take to get there."

"I know the map as well as you do, Legolas." Amariel reminded him. Off course she knew the distance and travel time there. That was the very reason the wanted to "visit". Her mothers family always had lived far south, and refused to move when the darkness of the forest spread. Instead they stayed in one of the few forest villages remaining outside, acting as an outpost and lookout, keeping an eye on the going ons further south. There was after all a reason her mother had caught the attention of Thranduil, and turned out to be a worthy wife. She had a certain kind of steel to her that came from growing up in a very strong and stubborn family, much like Thranduil himself.

"Then how do you plan to get there?"

Her hand paused on the maps and she looked at them, beginning to become annoyed herself.

"How do you think I plan to get there?" she asked stiffly. "On foot."

"Alone?" Aglar sounded incredulous. When she did not answer, Legolas stared at her.

"Amariel you cannot think to go there alone! That is absolute folly!" At his raised voice, she felt herself retreat a little, her heartbeat racing. Then she shook her head internally. She was not about to be weak now. This had nothing to do with the incident; why did she feel affected by it even now? She squared her shoulders and forced herself to stare right back at him.

"I've travelled alone in the forest on many occasions," she reminded him. In an instant his eyes darkened, and she realized her mistake.

"Yes," Aglar said quietly when Legolas did not answer. "We know that all too well." She winced a little at his quiet tones. His eyes momentarily moved to the picture on the wall, where their mother smiled back at them, way back before the grievous event in the forest.

"You're not going." He said, suddenly sounding like their father when he had made a final decision.

"Aglar…"

"No." She looked desperately over at Legolas, but he had the same stern mien.

"You will not go there alone. That is too dangerous, Amariel." He said, repeating his brother's words. Amariel stared at them both. Then suddenly, an old, yet very familiar feeling bubbled up inside her. Defiance. She hadn't felt it in centuries, but now it burned through her, making her angry, giving her an adrenaline kick. She rolled the map quickly and tucked it into her sleeve.

Then she opened her mouth, about to tell them they could not stop her, that she would get away whatever they said, when a voice at the door interrupted her.

"I will accompany her." She whirled to find Curunir standing there, expression unreadable.

"Curunir!" Aglar exclaimed, moving forward to clasp his arm in friendly greeting, Legolas quickly following suit.

"I am sorry I did not knock," Curunir said, sounding a little abashed. "I heard raised voices, and could not help but wonder what was going on."

For a moment his eyes met Amariel's and instantly she knew he was lying. He'd come to warn them about her impending escape.

"It is alright," Aglar said, his grin untouched. "If anybody could come in at any time it would be you, Curunir." Curunir bowed his head in thanks, then smiled.

"It warms my heart to hear you say so." He hesitated, then turned to Amariel. "The choice of what you will do is yours, but like your brothers I worry about the danger of such a long journey. Are you sure you have thought this through? Your father is away on a diplomatic trip. I am sure he would like to speak with you before you leave."

For a while Amariel remained quiet. Then slowly she nodded. "I've made my decision, and none can sway me." She glanced at her brothers. "You will have to tell adar when he returns. I just want a break. I'll be back in the autumn." Hopefully, she added internally but said nothing.

"Then I shall join you, if you would have me." She nodded at Curunir, and for a while her brothers were quiet.

"I still don't like this…" Aglar admitted, and Amariel took his hand.

"Please muindor. I'm no child anymore, I can take care of myself." When he still did not answer she squeezed his hand. His eyes met hers. "I'll be carefull," she said. She looked up and met Legolas' eyes. "I promise." They both looked at her, then Aglar sighed.

"Be safe then, Celemiw." He drew her into a warm hug, which she returned passionately. Then she turned and gave a hug to Legolas. He drew back from the hug but kept her close, looking at her affectionately.

"Have a nice travel, muinthel. Send them my greetings." Amariel smiled and nodded, knowing a spoken lie would be detected immediately. He kissed her cheek.

She moved to the door, then looked back at her brothers. They were watching her, and for a moment an odd feeling made her linger. Then she left the room with Curunir.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

It felt like an age later when she was done packing. She'd been moving around quietly collecting the necessary things, trying to act like everything was normal which offcourse she had failed at. Curunir had parted ways with her to pack not long after their talk with her brothers. He'd said nothing off, but then she still wasn't sure what he was playing at yet, and unlike her, he was a very good actor. She pulled her satchel over her shoulder, bound the leather pack to her hip and finally did the familiar routine of fastening her quiver and bow. She was about to leave when her eyes landed on the twin knives hanging on her wall. She didn't take them out as often as she used to, but they always could come in handy, and they had been her lucky knives when she was younger. For a moment more she hesistated before quickly tucking them in underneath her tunic, right at the waistband. It was uncomfortable, but she ignored it for the sake of looking less suspicious, then looked around one final time. She kept feeling like she was forgetting important things, but she really had no time to linger.

Tearing her eyes away from the familiar room she headed quickly for the door and left, walking straight for Curunir's home.

AHoD

AHoD

When she arrived she could hear him rattling things inside, and for paranoid moment she considered leaving quickly, lest he should change his mind and try to keep her there. Then she took a deep breath, knocked, and slipped inside before he could answer.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" Curunir looked up, flint in his hands. Carefully he stowed them away in a pouch similar to her own. Atleast that's a good sign, Amariel thought.

"I will do what I said I would."

"You said you would not lie to adar. You said you would not come."

"And later I said I would. I changed my mind." Amariel regarded him suspiciously.

"How do I know you won't change your mind again?" she asked, listening carefully for passerbys outside that might overhear. "How do I know you're not lying to me now? That this is not a trick and a ruse, for my "own good"?" She said, mimicking his voice.

At that he looked up and finally stopped packing. "I would not lie to you like that, Amariel. You know that."

When she did not answer he came forward, opening the door quickly and checking outside before closing and locking it.

"How about this," he said quietly, reaching out his hand. "I swore to protect you when you were but a babe, and I will continue to do so till the day I die or pass west. I know you want to leave and considering how good a hider you've been, even from a young age, few can stop you. All I can do is safen your journey, and that, I will. I swear I will keep your secret safe, whatever it is, and I will promise not to tell your father until you allow me to. I know he would understand."

For a long time Amariel could do nothing but stare, barely believing his words. His hand remained outstretched, waiting for her confirmation of his vow. Then finally she reached forward, wrapping her hand around his and taking his hand.

"Then I shall hold you to that vow," she said carefully, uttering the formal answer to such a pledge. "Thank you," she added, and he smiled. He returned to packing his things and for a moment she watched him, a question burning inside.

"Why?" Curunir paused once more, looking at her questioningly. "Why did you change your mind?" She asked. He smiled.

"Because you would not."

"You're rewarding me for being stubborn?" Amariel frowned. "Is that not the number one rule parents learn when raising their children?"

Curunir's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps," he said. "But then I'm no parent, and you're no child."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

 **Author's note**

Hey, I'm sorry I have not posted for so long. I was lucky enough to get a summer job working at some stables, so I didn't have time to write; then I managed to fall from one horse and break my elbow, so I writing went so slowly and painfully that very little came out and I paused for a while. Sorry about that. Suffice to say, my writing might be a bit sporadic at times, but I'll try to finish this story. Particularly since I've written several later chapters.

DD: Thank you! I'll try my best

Sheriffgirl: No worries, it's no problem. Actually your sudden review reminded me of the story (which I'd almost forgotten about after all that time), so thank you. There will be another chapter in not too long (I wrote twice as much as intended so had to split this chapter). And after that I'll try to be more regular in posting chapters. I can't promise anything though, other than that I intend to finish this story (though it may take some time) so please bear with me.


	4. Chapter 3: The first journey

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 3: The first journey**

It felt like an age later when she was done packing. She'd been moving around quietly collecting the necessary things, trying to act like everything was normal which offcourse she had failed at. Curunir had parted ways with her to pack not long after their talk with her brothers. He'd said nothing off, but then she still wasn't sure what he was playing at yet, and unlike her, he was a very good actor. She pulled her satchel over her shoulder, bound the leather pack to her hip and finally did the familiar routine of fastening her quiver and bow. She was about to leave when her eyes landed on the twin knives hanging on her wall. She didn't take them out as often as she used to, but they always could come in handy, and they had been her lucky knives when she was younger. For a moment more she hesistated before quickly tucking them in underneath her tunic, right at the waistband. It was uncomfortable, but she ignored it for the sake of looking less suspicious, then looked around one final time. She kept feeling like she was forgetting important things, but she really had no time to linger.

Tearing her eyes away from the familiar room she headed quickly for the door and left, walking straight for Curunir's home.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

When she arrived she could hear him rattling things inside, and for paranoid moment she considered leaving quickly, lest he should change his mind and try to keep her there. Then she took a deep breath, knocked, and slipped inside before he could answer.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" Curunir looked up, flint in his hands. Carefully he stowed them away in a pouch similar to her own. _Atleast that's a good sign_ , Amariel thought.

"I will do what I said I would."

"You said you would not lie to adar. You said you would not come."

"And later I said I would. I changed my mind." Amariel regarded him suspiciously.

"How do I know you won't change your mind again?" she asked, listening carefully for passerbys outside that might overhear. "How do I know you're not lying to me now? That this is not a trick and a ruse, for my "own good"?" She said, mimicking his voice.

At that he looked up and finally stopped packing. "I would not lie to you like that, Amariel. You know that."

When she did not answer he came forward, opening the door quickly and checking outside before closing and locking it.

"How about this," he said quietly, reaching out his hand. "I swore to protect you when you were but a babe, and I will continue to do so till the day I die or pass west. I know you want to leave and considering how good a hider you've been, even from a young age, few can stop you. All I can do is safen your journey, and that, I will. I swear I will keep your secret safe, whatever it is, and I will promise not to tell your father until you allow me to. I know he would understand."

For a long time Amariel could do nothing but stare, barely believing his words. His hand remained outstretched, waiting for her confirmation of his vow. Then finally she reached forward, wrapping her hand around his and taking his hand.

"Then I shall hold you to that vow," she said carefully, uttering the formal answer to such a pledge. "Thank you," she added, and he smiled. He returned to packing his things and for a moment she watched him, a question burning inside.

"Why?" Curunir paused once more, looking at her questioningly. "Why did you change your mind?" She asked. He smiled.

"Because you would not."

"You're rewarding me for being stubborn?" Amariel frowned. "Is that not the number one rule parents learn when raising their children?"

Curunir's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps," he said. "But then this is quite the unusual situation isn't it? And then again, I'm no parent, and you're no child."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Not long after she stood outside his home, waiting. He'd finished packing, and only needed to change before they were on their way. Thus, she was now waiting for him to do just that.

She glanced around, her body prickling with anticipation and nerves. She was about to leave Mirkwood. The realization had come not long after she went outside, and it scared her for some reason. She'd never been outside of the forest, never actually crossed an open field nor seen mountains from a close range. Now she was about to leave Mirkwood, and not only that, she would cross the Misty Mountains and leave her entire home region of Rhovanion behind.

"Now who is the pretty elleth standing all alone outside of Curunir's house…?" Megor appeared suddenly, smiling at her overbearingly. "Oh, and she had packed as well. Why, what is Celemed up to today?"

She stiffened at his use of the altered version of her brother's childhood nicknames, but said nothing.

"Will you not talk?"

"It is not of any concern to you." She mumbled, her eyes avoiding his by looking over his shoulder. They were alone in the cavern.

He laughed, and it was an unpleasant laugh, both taunting and arrogant. "Why, offcourse it is my concern: You are my princess. Your wellbeing certainly concerns me deeply." He bowed and kissed her hand. Then he looked her over in what could be concern, if only it were not Megor. Instead, it gave her an unpleasant feeling and her cheeks darkened.

"Where is my princess going?" His face was drawn in what he probably thought to be worry, and Amariel drew her eyes from him once more. She wished she could tell him off. She wanted to snarl at him that this was none of his business, nor his place to be meddling in her affairs. She wanted to warn him that his act was to no avail, as she'd overheard his father Maennor speaking with another noble, and knew well of his ambition. Instead she gave in.

"I'm visiting our family in the south," she said quietly. He frowned, and was about to say something when suddenly the door beside them opened.

"Everything is ready. All we need to…" Curunir stopped when he saw Megor standing there.

"I guess I should get going then," Megor said, his pale blue eyes moving from Curunir to Amariel. Suddenly he leaned in and kissed her cheek, lingering for a moment. "Have a nice travel, my lady." He smiled at her as if they shared some substantial secret, then left, not even glancing back once.

There was a pause as they watched his retreating back.

"He's a problem." Curunir said finally, and Amariel nodded, her cheeks burning. They'd both seen the curious look he'd let slip when he'd looked at Curunir.

"Let us try not to meet anybody else on our way, shall we?" Curunir proposed, looking at her pointedly. She was about to answer an annoyed and embarrassed "off course not", when she realized he was not criticizing her; he was looking to her for guidance. She grinned mischievously.

"Follow me."

In the end they made their way to one of the numerous secret exits she'd used when trying to escape the palace, taking many detours along the way to avoid guards and passers-by. On several occasions Curunir had glanced at her in indignation as she pulled aside a curtain, painting or slipped behind a statue to reach one of the numerous small pathways crisscrossing the palace.

"How did you find out about these?" he asked, to which the answer would usually be "I found them when I was playing as a child." There was a reason she'd been good at hide and seek.

They reached the cavern she was looking for after what felt like hours, and Curunir looked around curiously. It was medium sized, relatively dark room, lighted only by the very soft light reaching in from the tunnel behind them. The place looked to have been used for storage once upon a time, but had been left untouched and since fallen into decay.

"This is a dead end," Curunir commented. "Where are we going now?"

In answer Amariel pointed straight up. There, in the roof, was an air vent just big enough for them to climb through. Curunir's sigh of resignation was loud in the silence around them.

"We'll have to pull our things behind us," Amariel said quietly, pretending not to hear. She bent down and bound her pouch and satchel to her ankle, before pulling one of the wooden barrels closer to the vent. Then she climbed onto it and looked up through the hole. Through the darkness, she could just spot a little light reflecting of the top of the tunnel. She jumped, reaching blindly for the ledge she knew was just on the inside. For a moment, she hung there, and met Curunir's eyes.

"Will you kick the barrel away when you climb through?" He nodded quietly, and the next moment she'd pulled herself up through the hole. Darkness engulfed her, and she felt the familiar feel of the cold cave walls against her sides. Slowly, hands outreached grabbing for purchase above, while her feet pressed against the walls to keep her from slipping down, she wiggled, pulled and pushed her way through the tunnel. Soon there was a muffled crash as Curunir kicked away the barrel below them, followed by a thick, resounding silence. She could hear her own labored breathing, the soft slither of her feet and clothes against the cave walls, and an occasional bump of her pack hitting the wall below her. Soon she closed her eyes against the darkness ahead, forcing herself to remain calm.

She'd grown used to dark, confined spaces seeing as she lived in Mirkwood where that was pretty much the standard these days. Nevertheless, this still made her heart beat faster and her body prickle with energy.

Her fingers brushed over something small and smooth, and in a moment, she heard a tiny hiss before the insect scuttled away. Then the tunnel bent, until she was pushing herself forward on her stomach, and in the soft light around her she could finally see once more. Ahead there was a curtain of vines covering the tunnel's exit. Carefully she pulled them away and blinked at the sudden light. Then she peeked through.

There was no one there. There was a relatively steep slope going down from her position, littered with heavy trees. She paused for another moment, listening and letting her muscles rest for a moment. Then she quickly pulled herself out and stepped aside so Curunir could follow.

He wiggled out soon after, not winded at all. Then he took looked around, flexing his shoulders.

"We're south of the river," he said in surprise.

"Aye," Amariel bent down to unfasten her things and tie them at her hip once more. "We passed above it when in the tunnels." There was silence for as Curunir copied her. Finally he looked up.

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" He asked, studying her carefully. He knew they were headed to Rivendell, as she had told him so he could pack accordingly. However, he did not yet know why.

She hesitated, and looked back at the small hole they'd crept out of. The vines had once more slid into place in front of the opening, leaving only a thin line of darkness visible from her position.

 _I can still climb back inside_ , she thought. _Still pull myself all the way back to that dark storage room, and then return to my own chamber and try to find a new plan._ Perhaps she would walk back into her brothers' rooms and tell them the truth: Have her family sort out some way to solve this mess she'd created. In a way, it was the less daunting option.

Then she looked back south, and through a hole in the trees she could see the Mirkwood mountains in the distance, surrounded and covered by the forest. The only place she'd ever known, and the very place she was about to leave for the first time. Once more her body prickled with the by now familiar nerves, and her glance moved eastwards, seeing only trees in the direction she knew Rivendell lay. Even so, she felt a sudden tug in her gut, as if she could sense him even from this distance. The father of her child...

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves when she a new feeling sparked inside her. Small, yet persistent, it grew and mingled with her fear, and it took a moment for her to recognize it. It was anticipation, excitement, a sudden, albeit very small inkling of wanderer's lust. She wondered what the life of her lover had been like before they met, what he'd seen in the travels he'd described to her that evening, what his home looked like. She could only imagine, as she'd done all her life, looking at the few paintings they had of the outside world and imagining the places she heard described in songs and tales.

Once more her eyes wandered back to that little, dark hole, and suddenly she saw it differently. It looked small, confining and dark compared to the outside world. A gateway back to a restricted life, confined within the palace and filled with shame and doubt and regret for her actions. She feared she might even lack the feeling of love she should have for her child as it's very existence would shame her and endanger her family and kingdom. And so, her decision was made. She met Curunir's eyes.

"Yes, I am." she said clearly, her voice filled with conviction. Together, they started down the slope, heading south. And yet, for all her certainty concerning her choice, she could not stop herself from looking back one more time at the hole in the ground, the one that lead back to her home. Then it disappeared in amongst the trees, and there was only her and Curunir, at the beginning of a long journey.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

"I do not think that is wise, Amariel." Curunir was frowning, leaning back against one of the trees in the small clearing they'd found. Around them the forest was dark and dense, with trees overgrown and gnarled, a testament to how far south they'd come. They had already crossed the mountains and travelled all the way down to the old forest road. There, they'd met a patrol, just as planned, and told them of their aim to "visit her family". It was a meeting planned after a short discussion, as both she and Curunir decided that would be the smartest course of action, even if it took more time. Her brothers and father were certainly expecting them to cross path with that particular patrol if they visited her family, and if the patrol did not meet them they would worry immediately. It also worked to throw Megor, and anybody else a little too curious off their trail.

At the moment they were finally headed east, and were not far from a small elven settlement close to the border of the forest. It was one of the few settlements in Mirkwood to keep horses, and was conveniently located so they could provide horses to any elves intending to use the high pass or visit Lorien. The topic of discussion however, was not about that. Instead, it concerned the "High Tree" as Amariel and her friends had named it as children.

In the old days, when Mirkwood had not yet been taken by darkness, the High Tree had been a favourite amongst the elflings as it was easy to climb in, and, as the name stated, particularly tall so one could see the forest from above. When the forest grew sick and infested most elves had retreated northwards, and the few remaining elven encampments in the area had no children. Thus, no elflings played in the tree anymore and it had largely been forgotten. However, when she and her brothers travelled south to visit their family, they usually visited the old tree and slept there one night. It brought back old memories, and Amariel could feel the tree respond in gratitude to their company, which it had long missed. It had become a tradition of sorts for their family, and she knew her brothers and father would expect her to visit it on her way to their mother's old home.

The thought gave her an idea: since they thought she would visit the tree, they would certainly visit it themselves when they inevitably wondered where she was and started looking for her. If she was so unlucky that she was not back home by that time, atleast she could leave a message for them there explaining what had happened and where she'd gone. That might even buy her some more time. It seemed like a good plan, if only Curunir would agree.

"Why is it not wise?" Amariel frowned back at him, resisting the urge to cross her arms like a child. "You were the one who almost denied aiding me because you could not keep anything from my father. Now you suddenly want to keep me from leaving a note to him?"

"Those are two entirely different situations. Before, I did not know what had happened, nor why you suddenly wanted my aid. At the same time there was no chance of anybody overhearing our words. If you leave a note out here in the forest, with information that personal…" He shook his head, a glimmer of the worry and anger he'd had when she first told him her story on his face. "Nobody must know this other than your family."

"Do you truly believe anybody else would have reason to visit this tree?" Amariel asked quizzically. "It's a risk worth taking. They really need to know what happened if they start worrying. Otherwise, my leaving the palace will not aid my family or kingdom in any way. It would be just as destructive as if I'd stayed."

For a while Curunir remained silent in thought. He glanced at her stomach, an action that she had a hard time getting used to. When she'd first told Curunir about the child he'd been silent for the longest time. Then he'd demanded to know what happened, down to the smallest detail. In the end he'd been quiet once more, and his mien, which had been almost angry when she told him his story turned weary and sad.

"At least I am glad I agreed to come with you," he'd said, and it had been his only comment about it that day. He'd not been angry about it since, instead he'd grown worried when she spoke about it. She wasn't sure why though.

"Fine," he said finally, giving up the discussion. "You will write a letter to your family in case they start worrying before we have returned. But be careful – try to keep the content minimal, and hide it so that nobody other than your family will find it."

"I doubt anybody else will have reason to climb that tree," Amariel commented. She was convinced no one would visit the tree, and more than that she knew it to her heart. Even so, she did as she was bid, and produced a small piece of parchment. After a moment of thought, she started writing.

 _Dear Aglar, Legolas and Thranduil,_

 _Seeing as you're reading this, I will assume you have realized something was off before I had the time to return. For that I am sorry. I had wanted to tell you this in person, but clearly circumstances will not allow it, so here goes. Like you probably know by now I never went to nana's family. There's no easy way to explain why, so I'll be blunt:_

 _I'm pregnant, and I don't know who the father is._

 _All I know is that he is a noldor I stumbled across in the forest. I'm so sorry I failed you and your trust. I should have known better, should have been more careful. But there is nothing for it now. I've travelled to Imladris in the hope that I might at least discover who he is, that this might not be as big a scandal. All I want to do is right the wrong I've done, and give my child the possibility of growing up with both parents. I know you will understand. Again, I'm really sorry for the trouble this will undoubtedly cause you and the rest of our family. I know you will blame yourselves for this, but please don't. I am a grown elleth and I take full responsibility for my own actions. I can only hope you will forgive me. I'm sorry I lied. I love you._

When she was done she folded the letter twice, and wrote "To my family," on top. Then she quickly scurried away to where she knew the High Tree was, just nearby. Carefully, she tucked it in between a branch and the stem, right where she and Legolas often sat as elflings. The tree hummed quietly, a soft song reawakened by her presence in it's branches. She smiled and touched the stem, feeling the familiar hum of energy emitting from the tree, faded and suppressed, yet still there.

"Not dead," she murmured, feeling the very faint warmth. "Only sick and resting. Not dead." For a moment she remembered Liria's lessons on song, and she wondered if she could reawaken the tree with a melody. Then she quickly pushed aside the thought. It would require her to share her energy, and she really needed it for this trip. Not to mention how she did not know what she was doing, and her voice might in the end only end up attracting nearby animals and spiders.

Instead, she climbed down and quickly returned to Curunir. To her surprise he was counting silver and gold coins, moving them to a tiny pouch which he hid in an inside pocket of his vest.

"What is that for?" Amariel asked. He only smiled in response. "You'll see."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The next day the forest finally lightened to a small village, with homes scattered in the treetops above them. A couple of elves nodded and smiled to them as they passed, but otherwise they were completely ignored. Amariel looked at Curunir, who was now dressed in simple traveler's garb with some leather protection, a combination commonly used in Mirkwood. One would not guess it was the previous general of Mirkwood's armies walking there, nor even that he was of any power or nobility, unless one looked at his face. Something about his hazel eyes belied his age, and the depth and knowledge hidden within, his pale golden eyebrows softly crinkled in thought.

Amariel herself was wearing similar garb to him, except her hood was drawn to hide her features and hair, as they were too distinct and easily recognizable. Curunir noticed her looking and raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," she muttered and looked away. Just then, the forest thinned around her. In the distance there were animal sounds, and the clang of metal on metal. Curunir led her to a large stable and Amariel looked at him in surprise.

"Horses?" she asked and he nodded.

"Time is of essence. Did you truly plan to hike all the way to Mirkwood?"

"Umm…" In truth the answer was yes, that had been the plan. She felt a little stupid, but the feeling quickly ebbed away as they entered the stables. On both sides there were rows and rows of stalls… empty stalls.

"What has happen…?" Her words were interrupted by a loud scrape coming from one of the boxes to their right.

"Pardon me!" Curunir spoke loudly, and the scraping paused. "We would like to acquire a couple of horses."

"Yes, just a moment," The scraping continued, followed by a thud. "I fear you're out of luck, sir. Most of our horses are out at the moment on various diplomatic missions. They say the king himself has journeyed on one of them, though we have not have the honour of meeting him here." He sounded a little disappointed at the fact.

Amariel glanced abashedly at Curunir who, to her surprise, was grinning.

"Perhaps you did not meet our king," he said, "but I'll wager an old friend would be a good exchange." There was a pause, then the elf walked out of the stall.

He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, with the darker skin tone of the avari elves. Amariel was sure she'd never met him before. Nevertheless, he grinned when he saw them.

"Curunir!" Taking quick steps, he pulled Curunir into a greeting, grabbing him by one elbow before touching their shoulders together. "It's been a long time."

"Aye," Curunir said. "Many things have happened these last years."

The other's smile faltered. "Indeed." Then his eyes fell on Amariel and he raised an eyebrow. "And who is this?"

Curunir's eyes met hers and she saw the discreet nod he gave. Reaching up, she pulled back her hood. Now the avarin's other eyebrow rose as well.

"Rhosgon, this is Amariel. Amariel, Rhosgon. He's the husband of my cousin's daughter," Curunir quickly introduced them. Amariel touched her hand to her breast and moved it outwards in greeting.

"A pleasure to meet you," she said and he returned the gesture with a smile.

"Likewise. Please excuse my surprise. We do not often see mixed races these days." He turned back to Curunir. "So, what brings you here at this time?"

"We're heading west and need horses. Our business is our own." Once more Rhosgon raised his eyebrows, then he grinned. "Alright, alright. Leave it to you to be secretive. But there's still the problem of the horses: We've got none left." He motioned to the empty stalls.

"Do you not have a single one left?" Curunir asked. "Not one? We do not need any premium horse, only something to quicken our journey and make it easier. We're heading over the mountains see, and we're a bit short on time."

Rhosgon remained quiet for a moment, and looked back at the empty stalls thoughtfully. "Well…" he started hesitatingly… "Normally this would not be an option, but since you're family, we could make an exception." After a moment more of thought, he passed them and headed out of the stables. "Follow me."

They walked back through the trees, then took a right turn into another clearing.

Rhosgon entered what looked to be another stable, this one much smaller and leading out to a small, open grassing area on the other side. Inside, there were many tools stacked along the walls and fewer boxes than in the first stable. Neighing was heard from inside several of the stalls. "We don't lend these horses out, usually." Rhosgon commented. "Some are heavy working horses, not suited for such journeys, while others are young or inexperienced. Lending them out would give us a bad reputation, but if you're in need…"

He walked over to one box and opened it to reveal a buckskin tobiano gelding. The horse watched them warily, and startled a little when Rhosgon reached in to pet him.

"This is Tâlhim. He's a bit skittish, but with a calm, experienced rider he should do well. He's agile and enduring, and the most suited horse for long, fast journey we have left." Curunir nodded, and moved over to the horse. It jerked once more, this time violently, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of the box. Curunir stopped at a small distance, letting the horse close the final ¨stretch on it's own. Eventually it did, sniffing his shoulder curiously. Still without looking, he reached out to touch it's neck. This time the horse only twitched at his touch.

"What happened that he is so frightened, even of elves?" Curunir asked, finally daring to look at the horse, which had retreated into the stable once more.

Rhosgon sighed. "I'm really not sure," he said sadly. "There was an attack on these stables several years back, and many horses escaped or were let loose. Some were found a while later, in the forest or on the open plains to the west, while others never returned. Talhim was one of the few that returned a year later, when we'd all but given up searching for him. He'd been a strong, healthy young stallion when he disappeared. When he returned he'd been gelded, starved and abused. All we can assume is that some traveling humans, caught him and attempted to train him by force. Perhaps they gelded him in an attempt to cool his spirits when little else worked. Either way he escaped and returned to us, and has been shy of strangers ever since. Particularly around unknown humans and elves."

"That is really sad. He's such a beautiful horse." "Indeed," Rhosgon said. "Thank the valar he's gotten better with the years, though. He used to bite in the beginning, but it seems he's gotten over the worst. He's a very trusting horse, though it might not seem like it at the moment." For a moment Rhosgon had gotten defensive on behalf of the horse, and Curunir smiled disarmingly. "I'm sure he is. I'll ride him. We're not going to go anywhere near any humans or villages either way, so we're already avoiding his biggest trigger."

"Then there's only the question of finding one more horse for the journey." Rhosgon studied her for a second, then turned and led them further into the stable. At both sides there were horses, a couple seemingly very young. The others were all draught horses of varying sizes, all with a heavy build. There was silence in the stable for a moment. "Perhaps a safer horse would be fitting for the lady," she heard Rhosgon say. "Either way I do not think sending an inexperienced horse with Talhim is a good idea." "I agree," Curunir responded looking over the horses thoughtfully. "He might rub off on them. I wonder if perhaps this one could do?" He pointed to a large, old horse with a lighter build than many of the others present.

"Ai, he would be a good option if not for the sore on his hind leg." Rhosgon pointed, and she heard Curunir's _ahh_ …

"Well he certainly cannot take the distance with that on his foot. Do you think…"

Amariel tuned out their conversation, realizing she would be no help at all. She did not know Rhosgon well enough to act like Curunir did, nor did she have anywhere near their competence with horses.

Instead she looked into the boxes and petted the horses. There was one colt which looked to be about a year old, dark bay with white markings like many of Mirkwood's horses had. The colt nickered when she passed, and stretched out to nose her pocket. The following boxes held a chestnut and white spattered horse which she could not see the gender of, a large palomino draft and another similar large draft, this one solid liver chestnut coloured with a light mane and tale. The horse watched her curiously as she passed, and she was about to reach in to it and pet it when a large bang right next to them caught her attention. She looked over to see the next horse stretching out of it's stall in an attempt to reach them.

Walking over, she reached out a hand which the horse sniffed before huffing loudly, once, twice, three times. It backed back into the stable, then came forward again, swinging it's head. Amariel smiled

"Hey, girl," she said quietly, reaching forward once more to pet it's neck. "You're an impatient one, aren't you?"

The horse whinnied, almost in agreement, before she backed into her box once more. There she swayed back and forth, and Amariel watched with concern.

"I see you've found Rhiw." Rhosgon was watching her. Apparently, he and Curunir had gotten no further in finding a suitable horse. Amariel looked back at the horse. She looked like one of the drafts, she saw, with a thick neck and tufts of feathers at her hooves, very similar to the mare on her right. Even so, she was not fully a working horse; she had a strong build, but was not heavy in the way the other draught horses were.

"What do you use her for?" she asked. Rhosgon sigh was audible.

"We really do not know what to use her for," he said. "Quite frankly, she was an accident." Amariel looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

Rhosgon met her eyes, a sad acceptance of the fact in his own. "She was, there's no escaping that fact. After the attack, same one that Talhim disappeared in, her mother and father also fled. We found her mother," he gestured to the solid coloured mare she'd seen in the stall next doors, "after only a week, walking around in the forest. She had not gotten far, and had somehow found sustenance in the sick forest. We did not realize she was pregnant before a while later, but she was. Apparently she'd met one of the lighter horses in the forest and become pregnant. Rhiw was the result. She's not really strong enough to do much of the work the draught horses do, and yet not light and agile enough to keep up with the horses we lend out. She doesn't really belong in either group, poor thing."

Amariel looked over at Curunir with wide eyes, automatically putting one hand over her stomach. This was hitting a bit close to home.

"Do you think we could take her for the journey?" Curunir asked. He knew her well

Rhosgon hesitated. "Aye, that might actually work well. She's young, but one of the boldest we have. But remember, she's not as enduring as Talhim so you'll have to slow down and let her have several more breaks."

"We would have to slow down either way to spare these horse's joints," Curunir said, to which Rhosgon nodded. "Then it is decided. You will take Talhim and Rhiw." Curunir brought forth the pouch Amariel had seen him prepare the previous day and handed it to Rhosgon.

She turned back to Rhiw and rubbed the top of her head. "You're not useless," she murmured, somehow feeling guilty. "You're not."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The next day Amariel and Curunir were both on their horses, ready to leave. They'd spent the rest of the previous day getting to know their new horses, and in Curunir's case, trying to make it trust him. Today he'd finally managed to mount Talhim without the horse prancing sideways, and he'd rewarded it greatly. There was no such trouble with Rhiw, who'd been more impatient than anything else. They headed out through a small path Rhosgon pointed them to, that led from the open area of the stables and through the dense forest.

It was quiet as they rode, the only sound they could hear the quiet thuds of the horse's hooves on the earthen ground. Then something caught Amariel's attention. She looked around curiously, trying to find the source of her distraction when she heard it again. A distant birdcall. A moment later they rounded a bend in the path and the forest suddenly opened, revealing almost piercing light.

Instantly she put a hand above her eyes to shade them and blinked to get used to her light surroundings. Then she stared.

Curunir stopped a little ahead and turned to see what was going on. When he saw her still at the border of the forest, gawking at the open area laid before her, he smiled and waited.

It took a while before Amariel got her speech back.

"So this is a… a plain" she was all that came to her mind.

"Yes," Curunir said patiently. Amariel swallowed, her eyes traveling quickly back and forth over the vast expanse ahead.

"What… What happened to the trees?"

"Nothing. It has always been this way. The trees here grow in small clusters." When Amariel did not answer for a long time, but remained put half inside the forest, Curunir urged his horse closer. "Come, Amariel. There is no danger."

She looked at him, then let her eyes rake the area once more. Then, ever so slowly, she forced herself to nudge her horse, feeling it's movement once more. The trees at either side disappeared, leaving her alone in the vastness of the plains. She sat stiffly, her back ramrod straight in fright.

Curunir drew up beside her, riding as close as their horses allowed. He touched her elbow, gaining her attention.

"Are you alright?" She nodded stiffly.

"Yes…" only her eyes kept jumping around, looking for potential dangers. When he frowned, she continued. "I'm fine. I just feel a little… exposed. Anyone can see us from miles around. Are you sure it is safe?"

"We are exposed," Curunir relented. "But so are any others who might come. Remember that we can see them just as well as they can see us."

There was a pause, then Curunir spoke again. "Amariel, you still have a choice, you know that? You could return and tell your family… I would understand if this scares you."

"Nay," Amariel said, and forced her eyes back on him. The princess had never been outside of the forest, never seen an open area as vast as the one she was going through now, and never been to a place where the sun beat down all around them in the way it did here. And yet, she had no wish to return. This was terrifying, aye, but it was a journey she undertook not for herself, but for her family and child. She could not turn back.

She looked one more time back at the forest, the dark expanse of trees now laid out behind them. The small trail they'd come from now looked very much like the hole they'd climbed out of barely a week past: dark, dank and suffocating. Internally she bid it farewell, let herself put the forest she so loved behind her. I will return, her mind kept telling her, but somehow she felt like she never would. This was the last time she saw her beloved home.

She shook her head and pushed the feeling aside. Then she looked back at Curunir.

"Let's go." At her nudge, her horse excitedly set straight into a gallop, racing over the sloping hills. Curunir shouted behind her, urging his horse into a gallop as well. Soon the forest was a shadow far behind them, leaving only the looming forms of the Misty Mountains ahead.

AHoD


	5. Chapter 4: Arrival

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 4: Arrival**

Amariel looked around carefully, her horse somehow sensing her disquiet moving quietly over the barren land. Around them the mountains loomed high, caves and crevices visible all along their sides. Curunir rode infront, as silent as she was. They'd made good time over the wilderland, crossing into the mountains only a day later. From there the path had led up and up, until they had a mesmerizing view over Rhovanion, her home, with it's uncultivated landscapes and large forests. Then they'd left all that behind for the narrow path that led through the mountains. Everything had seemed fine.

That was until, barely a day into the journey, Curunir started acting more quiet than usual, looking around them warily and glancing back several times to check that there were no one behind. His horse, which had turned out to be quite the loyal beast once he'd gotten used to Curunir, trusting him enough to even wade through rivers and enter narrow roads, started skittering a bit every now and then. Whenever the horse did that, like it had just a moment ago, Amariel knew Curunir was particularly worried.

She drew up beside him the moment the path allowed it and studied him quizzically.

"Curunir," she said. When he did not answer she went on. "Curunir, please tell me what is wrong. I can tell something is worrying you."

His eyes met hers and he hesitated. Then the previous general of Mirkwood sighed.

"I am sorry, mellon nin." He said quietly. "It is just a feeling I have. Something is not as it should be…" Amariel nodded, and looked around. Even though this was a completely new landscape to her, she was getting the same impression as he did. A looming feeling of danger that had been growing the further in they got. Even now, it felt as if an invisible shadow was growing around them, deepening as they rode further along the path.

"Is it possible to leave the road?" she asked. Curunir frowned at her.

"Perhaps." He paused, studying the landscape. It was nearing dusk, the mountains casting long, desolate shadows. "But I fear it would be dangerous in this darkness. Why?"

Amariel looked around once more. Even as they spoke, the feeling in her increased. Her eyes were drawn to every moving shadow, her ears noting every small sound around them.

"Amariel, are you alright?" The elleth glanced at him quickly, before looking away once more. Her skin had begun to prickle, her hands shaking lightly. She did not know what was causing this, but it was a feeling she'd had before.

Her eyes fell on a large cave ahead and she nodded towards it. "I think we should seek refuge," she said. "Perhaps we could hide in that cave?"

Curunir looked at it for only a second before shaking his head no. "There are orcs in these mountains," he said. "They live in caves like that one. We should never seek refuge in such a place." Her eyes kept flickering around, and Curunir studied her for a moment more.

"Please tell me what is wrong?"

"Are we far away from Rivendell?"

"No. Amariel, tell me what is wrong!" His voice was growing more demanding and she finally tore her eyes to him.

"Feels like Mirkwood."

She did not need to say anything else. Curunir's stilled. Even in the growing darkness she could see the colour leave his face. Then suddenly he turned sharply forward once more.

"We're leaving." He kicked his horse into a canter, despite the lessened visibility around them.

"Curunir…" She followed him down the winding path, riding faster than what felt safe. Her horse skidded a couple of times, but if Curunir heard, he did not heed it. She could see his head going from side to side, and it frightened her. Then suddenly he made a sharp turn, riding straight off the path. He cantered off over the uneven terrain, and moments later disappeared. It left Amariel feeling helpless and alone… then she turned a bend and saw him once more. He'd stopped and was speaking to his horse quietly.

They'd reached a small pocket in the mountainside. There grew a couple of bushes here, providing them a hiding place. In front the mountain sloped down before evening to a vast, flat expanse, where there were few trees and no hills, only grass and bogs. Her eyes found Curunir's questioningly, but he only placed a finger over his mouth and motioned for her to get of her horse and join him.

"We are staying here for the night," he murmured, looking out over the vast expanse of land warily. "Then we make for Rivendell. We should reach it's approximate location by noon, but even so it will be hard to find it. I fear I do not remember it's exact location."

There was silence for a while following his words. She expected him to explain his sudden haste at her words, but he said nothing. Instead he unsaddled the horses, before sitting down next to her and laying out a blanket to sleep. She copied him, yet it felt strange to do so. Mirkwood elves did not sleep on the ground. They slept in trees, hidden from potential dangers. Sleeping out in the open like this made her feel exposed, just like the enormous openness infront of them did. It also reminded her of the last time she'd slept like this… A ghost of warmth passed over her body at that thought, as if he was lying next to her. Then the feeling disappeared, leaving her feeling cold and alone. She settled down on the blanket, pulling another one up to her chin in an attempt to stave out the cold and dark that seemed to press upon her. Then a movement registered.

Far away, tiny as a speck in the distance, there was a lone rider. It moved soundlessly over the flat expanse, a long black streak spanning out behind, as if the flowers withered at his passing. She could feel his presence, even from this distance, almost as if the darkness bent around it. Her chest felt heavy. Her hands prickled. Her heart beat fast, yet somehow it felt sluggish, and her movement was diminished. Suddenly the rider turned, heading straight for the mountains. It grew bigger and Amariel stared in fright, unable to look away, unable to say anything. It neared the foot of the mountains. Then she blinked, and it was gone. Her heart beating hard in her chest, she looked at the path it had trodden but there was nothing to see; the dark streak was gone.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The next morning passed without any further mishaps. Curunir would not say why he had reacted the way he did, only that there might have been danger. In return, Amariel said nothing of the lone rider she'd seen at night. Curunir was weary enough as it were.

When noon came the feeling of danger had mostly ebbed away, replaced by a quiet, idyllic atmosphere. Around her there were hundreds of flowers she'd never seen before, with fresh colours that reminded her of Greenwood the great. Curunir had warned her however, as much of the beautiful vegetation hid bogs and swamps underneath, which Riw would sink right into if she went too near. Instead Amariel steered her horse carefully, following Curunir. It was a good thing she did so too, for there were many sudden crevices and valleys in the landscape, incredibly deep yet often very narrow. At one point in the early afternoon he'd declared Rivendell to be nearby, and then, hours later, he motioned for them to enter a small, hidden pathway leading down and through the bedrock.

It winded and turned, leading further and further down until they were walking through a thick forest once more, this one light and airy and made of pines and beeches. In the distance they could hear singing, similar to the one in Mirkwood except the voices were different, the melodies strange and unknown.

Then the trees receded and a river appeared before them. Amariel glanced at Curunir, who finally seemed to relax. He smiled at her tiredly. "And so we reach our destination at last. Here lies the border of Rivendell. None enters or leaves it without lord Elrond's knowledge."

"So he will know when we pass the border?" she asked.

"Aye. And I expect he will wonder who it is."

Amariel looked back at the river. It looked so innocent and pure, yet felt so daunting. Curunir egged Talhim on, and the horse only hesitated a moment before crossing into the river. Rhiw followed automatically, digging the river with her hooves before she stopped to drink.

That made Amariel feel exposed. She glanced around, imagining arrows flying at them from the nearby trees, the river drawing back and turning into a massive wave that crushed both her and her horse. Then Rhiw finished and she rode onto the banks at the other side.

She expected to feel different. She expected to feel a sudden change, a presence that she had not felt previously. But nothing changed. Her surroundings were the same as on the other side of the river, which flowed quietly behind them as if nothing had happened.

"Are you coming?" Curunir asked and she nodded, urging Rhiw into a slow walk after him. When the forest surrounded them once more, she could feel presences hidden around her. Songs stopped and turned to whispers, leaves rustled as elves moved around to see them better. Suddenly Amariel was thankful for the hoods they both wore, drawn to cover their faces.

They stepped out of the trees to see a spectacular view. Ahead the valley ended, and in it's inner corner there was nestled a small, beautiful city. Imladris. The princess of Mirkwood could not tear her eyes from it.

Even from this distance, she could see large windows, open pavilions and massive statues, adorning the free paths that crisscrossed the city. Free… it was a word fit to describe this city. Open, peaceful and free, the air fresh and clear in a way she'd never experienced before. Even the smell of the place was harmonious, a soft scent of pine and beech, perfumed with touches of what she imagined to be clear water, though she had no idea what it truly was.

The path they followed led them along the mountainside, before turning into a long, narrow bridge that led over a deep gorge in the landscape next to the city. That at last made Amariel pause, even as her horse stepped onto the bridge. All around her there was only open air, beneath, above, everywhere. From her position she could see the valley bend miles away, see the city loom over her ahead… Her horse skittered, feeling her unease. Curunir glanced back at her, but did not dare turn his horse. Talhim was doing well, but there was a limit to his trust. Instead his eyes implored her to relax. Amariel glanced back, wondering if perhaps she could go around and find another path when she noticed them. Two Rivendell elves dressed as guards were walking behind them at a distance.

She leaned forward and put a hand on Rhiw's neck, finding comfort in the strength and warmth emanating from it. Rhiw continued, taking the lead now, and then they were over the bridge and passing onto a large pavilion.

There, there were more guards next to a grand staircase. Curunir stopped, just as another elf descended the stairway.

Contrary to the guards, whose black hair was visible underneath their helmets, he had golden hair which flowed behind him as he walked. Something about his bearing, the way he strode, made Amariel feel young and inexperienced.

The elf stopped at the bottom of the staircase, appraising them carefully. He wore no sword, but that did not seem to bother him despite the fact that both she and Curunir were fully armed.

The sindarin general jumped off his horse, and threw back his hood. Then he smiled and bowed, touching his hand to his chest.

"Mae Govannen, hîr Glorfindel." One golden eyebrow rose, before Glorfindel returned the gesture.

"Curunir," he said. "I did not look to see any elves of Mirkwood here, especially not their general."

"General no more," Curunir corrected him. "I have long since retired."

"What brings you here?"

Time for the lie. Amariel bit her lip, feeling an adrenaline rush as Curunir spoke once more. This was a part they'd practiced and discussed, trying to find the best cover. In the end they'd gone for the simplest.

"I fear I have grown weary, and in need of rest. I imagine it will do me well to take a break from Mirkwood, and perhaps send a message to my kin across the sea." It was only partly a lie, and Glorfindel nodded, then glanced over at Amariel who had joined them. In the process, she had noted the guards that had entered the pavilion behind them were now blocking the exit.

"And this is Amariel," Curunir continued "a relative of mine." Also not a lie, barely. Glorfindel's eyes alighted on her, seemingly analyzing every detail. She bowed, offering a quiet greeting.

"You do not have much family resemblance." Glorfindel noted. Amariel felt herself stiffen, anticipating what might come next when another elf suddenly appeared, this one black haired and grey eyed. It gave Amariel a strange feeling inside as she remembered the only other elf with these characteristics she'd met. He murmured something in Glorfindel's ear, and a moment later, not saying another word, the vanya turned and hurried back to the city, taking the steps two at a time.

The noldo turned to them. "Welcome to Rivendell. Come, it is late, and you must be weary after such a long journey. There are rooms being prepared for you as we speak, and stables for your horses. The stable hands will care well for them." He gestured to a couple of elves that had appeared, watching at them curiously.

"Thank you for your kind offer," Curunir said carefully, a polite smile on his features. "But I fear my horse is easily scared of strangers. I'd rather care for him myself." The noldor nodded, acquiescing quietly. "Then you may join the stable hands, they will show you the way." He looked at Amariel. "Can the same be said for your mount?"

She was about to agree, if only to join Curunir, but then she noticed Rhiw stretching away towards the stable hands curiously, attempting to sniff them as she did most things she found. "No," She said at last, forcing out the words.

For a moment she met Curunir's eyes and she could see the slight concern in them. They had never intended to split up.

The noldor stepped towards her. "Then I might as well show you to your chambers immediately. No doubt you are in need of rest."

Amariel glanced at Curunir again. At the moment she did not feel tired at all, only scared. She nodded, and the noldor smiled kindly.

"Then follow me."

He moved up the staircase, away from the others. Pulling her bags over her shoulders and bidding farewell to Rhiw, Amariel followed. One last glance at Curunir told her he was still worried, looking after her then glancing back at his horse. She forced an encouraging smile. It would not do for him to leave his horse now, one glance at Talhim and that was obviously clear.

Then she followed the noldor who waited for her at the top of the stairs. He introduced himself as Lindir, a minstrel of Rivendell and good friend of Elrond. He often took it upon himself to introduce visitors to Rivendell if Elrond was not readily available. She only nodded, speaking no words in return.

They walked through the city, crossing beautiful bridges and arches built into the landscape, the large windows letting her look inside many of the passing homes and buildings. Lindir kept glancing at her curiously, attempting to see her properly underneath her hood.

"You do not speak much, Amariel." he commented at last, his voice curious. Amariel glanced at him, her eyes wide at hearing her own name. Then she quickly moved her eyes to the ground once more.

"I'm not sure what to say," she relented quietly. Her eyes went up once more, taking in the beauty of the place. "It's all so very new."

"It is so for many." He smiled kindly. "So you have never been to Imladris before?" She shook her head.

"And what of Lorien? It is closer to your home, and beautiful this time of year." She closed her eyes and shook her head minutely once more.

"Never?" He sounded quite surprised. "Strange, for an elleth such as you." When she made no reply, he continued. "This must all be very unfamiliar for you then. I understand. Here, these are your chambers for your stay."

They'd entered a large building, with an open common area. He led her to one of the many doors leading from it and opened it, showing her the insides: a small living space connected to two doors on the left, one leading to a bedchamber and the other to a bathing room. There was laid out a small dinner on the table, and several soaps and oils.

"If you need water for the tub, you may ask any servant and they will show you were to collect it. Otherwise there are bathing chambers in a building just west of here." He motioned with his hand. "You cannot miss it."

She nodded, thanking him. Then she hesitated. "Lindir?"

He glanced back at her from the doorway. "Where will Curunir be staying?" There was only one bed in her chambers. He smiled. "In a chamber on the other side of the street." He motioned out the door, and she saw another building, this one grander with beautiful decorations inside.

"Oh…" It had not occurred to Amariel yet, but it came as a sudden slap to the face. Here, Curunir was considered nobility of sorts, the previous general of Mirkwood. She on the other hand was nothing but a common elf, a relative of his. She nodded and thanked Lindir once more, and he exited the room. Then she closed the door behind him and looked around.

Even in this less ornamented building, there were beautifully carved columns and a large window opening her living chambers to the city. She moved over to it, and looked down. It was a beautiful view she had, of the stunning architecture of Imladris and the streets, quite calm at this hour. To her right she could see a grand, beautiful garden, and to her left the paths winding up and disappearing between the houses.

She leaned back, falling unceremoniously into a chair and looked around, drawing back her hood at last. The small chamber was quiet and growing dark even as the sun neared the horizon.

 _Here at last_. Now came arguably the hardest part of her journey: finding the father and telling him of their child. And doing so as nothing more than a commoner.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Easier said than done. The saying kept repeating itself in her head as she walked, looking around helplessly at the passing elves. It had been three days already. Three days since their arrival, two since meeting Elrond. She remembered him very clearly, for a vivid image of him had for some reason stuck in her mind. There was something about him that she could not place but knew she should. He greeted them kindly, welcoming them and wishing them a good stay. Then he had to leave, responding to an urgency at the healing wards. Something about a man that had gotten attacked near the mountains. She'd been relieved when they parted, for apart from the odd feeling she got, there was a tinge of danger in the air around the elven lord that warned her of his power. And his eyes were like Glorfindel's – they saw straight through her, digging out her secrets, one by one.

She sighed, sitting down on a rock by the path. Around there was a light spatter of trees, the waterfall visible just a small distance away. It thundered loudly, reminding her of the waterfall near their dungeons, and creating light gusts of wind with that enchanting smell that belonged to Imladris.

They seemed to be on her trail, sensing her lies already, yet she was no closer to her goal. Everywhere she looked there were elves with black hair and grey eyes, only a few differing from the rest with their dark brown or even silver hair. Which meant that everywhere she looked, she could see elves that might be her partner walking away, and she had no way of knowing unless she heard their voices or saw their faces. And there were thousands of them! She sighed, pressing her face into her hands tiredly. There was more variance in Mirkwood. There, colours ranged, thousands of different shades of brown, blonde or red. Why could the noldor not be more like them? Then, at least, they would not all look the same from behind. So immersed was she in her thoughts, that she did not notice the presence approaching until it was very near. Then suddenly an old feeling ran through her, chilling her to the bone and making her head snap to the side. The next moment she was on her feet, snarling.

"How did you manage to sneak up on me, _human_?" Amariel hissed, backing away quickly. The man paused, looking at her in surprise.

"Sneak up on you?" he questioned. "Why would I want to do such a thing?" Amariel did not answer, suppressing the hiss that would have been her response, her thoughts jumbled in surprise and anger. As if he did not know why he might do that. He was _a human_.

"What are you doing here?" she regarded him with cold eyes, wishing she had taken her knife with her. Her hands were shaking with suppressed emotion at seeing another of _that_ race after so long. She truly was torn between attacking and fleeing, the latter temptation by far the strongest.

"Same as you I suppose," the man said slowly, wary now as she was. If she had been more open, willing to see the situation as it truly was instead of through her goggles of fear and hate, she might have seen a confused young man, trying to respond to questions he did not understand. Instead she saw only danger, heard only sarcastic replies.

"This is an _elven_ sanctuary," Amariel hissed. "What is a _human_ doing here?" Finally the man looked angered.

"I have a name," he said stiffly. "My name is Estel. May I inquire as to yours?"

Amariel looked at him in disgust. "I will never share my name with _you_!"

"Why? What did I ever do?"

"You know what you've done." Amariel hissed in a low tone of voice.

"No, I don't!"

"You've done what all men do!" Finally she exploded. "You're all the same, you _humans_. Filthy, foul creatures, you are, even from your birth!"

Estel gaped at her. For a moment he looked hurt, deeply so, then he swallowed and the expression was wiped of his face. Now there was only disgust in return.

"You're one of the Mirkwood elves that arrived three days past," he surmised, studying her. "I had looked forward to meeting one of you. It is the only elven realm I have not yet visited. Now I see it might as well remain so." He looked disappointed, saddened even at that fact, but Amariel could see right through him. She could see through that petty act.

"You would not be welcome." She put as much venom as she could in her words and once more hurt flickered over his face.

"Tis a shame," he commented quietly, visibly deflated. For a long time silence reigned between them and Amariel wondered what she should do. Maybe she should warn Elrond of the human in their midst, but then considering the tales of his power, it was a wonder he had not noticed already.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned again, deciding to resume her earlier interrogation. Estel looked annoyed. "I said, same as you!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"What would you have me say?" Estel's voice had finally risen.

"Go back," Amariel said quietly, trying to sound as threatening as she could. "Go back to whatever place you crept out of! You do not belong here."

This time she seemed to have broken through his defences. He slumped visibly, pain flickering over his face, and he looked away quickly to hide it but she saw. For a long time he did not answer, and in the silence Amariel felt a twinge of guilt and regret. He truly had looked genuine. But then she suppressed the feeling, thinking obviously a human could not be genuine in anything other than malice.

He murmured something quietly that she did not quite catch. Finally he turned his eyes on her again, and somehow the blank expression increased her suppressed guilt.

"I am part elf," he revealed slowly, "However far removed. Just like Elrond is half human." At that information Amariel balked.

"Did you not know?" Estel asked mildly, watching her. Amariel shook her head vehemently.

"That cannot be true!" she said, oddly out of breath. "Such a thing is not possible. It is terrible," she was murmuring to herself now, shaking her head back and forth as if that would deny his fact. "It had to be wrong… this cannot be possible…! Humans are such foul beings, they cannot possibly mate with elves…" Estel was watching her quietly, anger and disbelief warring on his features.

"We can and have many times," he said clearly, cutting her off. "Did you not know this? Beren and Luthien? Tuor and Idril? Even Mithrellas and Imrazôr? Do these truly tell you nothing?" Amariel stared at him in disbelief.

"I… I…" She was at loss for words. She had been told of their stories. Off course she knew of Luthien, she was the fairest elf to ever live, who defied even Morgoth himself with her enchantments! She was right there in the height of the elder days, part of the legends they sang of. But she had never stopped to consider their race, or even asked for it. All she had learned was that they were man and wife and died in the end. She repented now never having bothered to read a book about history. She did not care much for that kind of reading, preferring rather to have the tales told to her in song by the tradition of the silvans. Now she realized what she had learned had been morphed… No. No, it could not be. If this human spoke the truth then Elrond himself would have to be... he would be a…

"You're lying!" Amariel said fiercely, staring at Estel. He stared back, a mix of disbelief and disgust on his face.

"Lore must have faded desperately in Mirkwood," he said finally, "If you know so little about even the elder days!"

Amariel jerked forward in sudden anger at his attack on her people and home, and Estel straightened in kind. That proved too much for her. For a moment in his anger, he suddenly reminded her of those cruel men in the forest, long ago. She had a flashback of her mother, fighting furiously, crying for her to run… And run she did. One moment she was there, the next she was gone, fleeing from this angry man. But what she did not realize was that Estel had caught her moment of fright. He'd seen the panic on her face when he was truly angered, and now when she'd left suddenly felt all such anger deflate from him, leaving him instead with a strange sense of bewilderment. What on earth was wrong with that elf?

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Amariel burst into the room she knew belonged to Curunir. He looked up in surprise, lowering the quill he had been holding to his chin in thought.

"Amariel?" The question was filled with concern at the sight of her, but she slammed the door in anger.

"Beren," she said, meeting his eyes and keeping them. "Was he human?"

" _What?_ "

"Was he?" Amariel raised her voice.

"Yes." Curunir regarded her warily, and Amariel stepped forward in anger.

"And Tuor and Idril? And Mithrellas and Imrazôr? Were one of each pair there human as well?" Curunir nodded slowly.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"So Elrond is half-elven," Amariel said, remembering the family tree of the noldo. "No wonder he is our enemy…"

Curunir shook his head. "That has nothing to do with the matter."

"But he is part human!" Amariel said.

"And?"

"He allows humans to walk his halls! I met one of the foul beings on the street!"

At that Curunir stiffened. "You met one of them?" he asked worriedly. When Amariel nodded mutely he put a hand to his head in distress. "Ai valar, what did you say? What did you do?"

"Only what he deserved." Curunir eyes widened, but Amariel was not ready let the earlier subject drop.

"How come I did not know?!" She interrupted. "How can I not have been told the full stories?!"

Curunir shook his head. "You were once," he said evenly. "When you were young."

"When I was young?"

"Before the… incident. After that Thranduil gave an order not to mention the human race in any stories to you. He thought you were not quite ready." Amariel stared at him, aghast, and he sighed.

"I see now that he did the right thing."

"How can you say that?" She asked, her voice quavering. "You led me knowingly into the lions-den in coming here, and you did not even tell me of its existence!"

"It's not that way, Amariel," Curunir said tiredly but she only stared at him, shaking her head.

"Why did you not warn me?" she asked, her voice soft. If she'd known, she wouldn't have come. He must have known her well enough to realize that! Even a possible pregnancy was not worth this! She would find another way to identify the father.

"We're leaving" she said suddenly, meeting his eyes again.

"'Tis a dangerous journey," Curunir said. "We cannot hope to get back now. Elrond's scouts have reported increased orc activity in the mountains…"

"I don't care! We're leaving!"

"Amariel, 'tis truly dang…"

"I don't care! I will not stay in this fetid place a moment longer!"

"Then it will be the death of us both!" Curunir stood, his quill dropping to the floor. Amariel's eyes widened. She'd never seen him so roused before. "I will _not_ have the daughter of my king die for such a foolish reason." He said sternly.

Amariel was about to come with her earlier argument, saying how she would sneak out again, but Curunir interrupted her.

"This is not Mirkwood. You do not know the land as well, nor do you know patrol patterns. If you try to escape, I will tell the imladrin army and have them _drag_ you back if necessary!"

Amariel stared at him, her mouth opening and closing in shock. To her this betrayal was so unexpected, so confusing, that she wanted to cry. She whirled and hurried out the door, heading valar knows where, and Curunir sighed.

He sat back down, looking at the unfinished letter tiredly. He had not missed that last pained look of betrayal she sent, and it saddened him. More than anything he loved Amariel, who had been like the daughter he never had. Even so, he would listen to his king's orders, and he knew that her protection was of paramount importance. She would understand one day, he thought, now picking up his quill. He could not, however, help a small smile touching his lips as he dipped his quill once more.

Today she had been stubborn, hard headed even. These were traits of her old self, the way she'd been before the accident. It was a positive sign, he decided, as positive as her decision to come here in the first place. He had made a gamble after all, when he had agreed to this journey. He prayed only that it might be worth it - that her visit to Rivendell might heal her, as nothing at home ever had.

AHoD

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AHoD

Authors Note:

Hi and thank you for reading! I've been writing a lot lately and I feel like it's going a little slow, so I'm sorry about that. Anyway reviews are appreciated and thank you to Sheriffgirl for keeping up!


	6. Chapter 5: Discoveries and Prejudice

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 5: Discoveries and Prejudice**

The following afternoon, Amariel was sitting at the base of a tree relaxing, when she heard a scuffle to her right. She glanced up momentarily before she was suddenly on her feet, staring at the man in apprehension.

Estel raised his hands.

"Please," he said soothingly, his eyes watching her warily as she watched him. "I only meant to pass." Amariel did not answer, staring at him still. When he came a step closer she dropped into a sudden crouch, her knife flashing out in front of her.

"Not one step nearer!" she snarled. Her shivering hand betrayed her pretence however, and Estel studied her quietly.

"Why do you fear me so?" he asked, taking a deliberate step to the side. Amariel watched her warily as he moved at a diagonal in proportion to her, never coming closer, yet never backing away either. All along his hands were raised in a placating gesture. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing has happened to me."

"Then why do you hate humans?"

"There does not need to be a reason to hate humans." She claimed, eyes narrowing.

"Nobody else here does, not even Curunir." Amariel frowned.

"Curunir?"

"Aye, the one you came here with." Estel took another step sideways, but this time Amariel did not react.

"You spoke with Curunir?"

"Earlier this day, yes. He was a kind man, very calm and laid back…" He paused. "And not at all afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Really?" Suddenly Estel took a step forward, and Amariel instinctively jumped back to the base of the tree, ready to climb it to escape. A moment later she realized her mistake and made herself straighten, but the damage was done.

"Not afraid at all." Estel commented. She scowled at him.

"What do you want?" Amariel forced herself to sheath her daggers and stared at him. He looked like he did not quite know the answer to the question himself.

"I want you to know that humans are no different from elves." He said at last. "I want to be able to talk to you without you fearing me for what I am."

"What is there to talk about?" By now she was getting annoyed with him.

"Mirkwood, your people… why you came here?"

"Why do you ask?" Amariel glanced around warily.

"I do not know, isn't it a natural question to ask?"

She studied him for a moment, not answering. Slowly, a smile spread on his face. "You're getting used to me quite quickly."

"I will never get used to a human," Amariel claimed with half-hearted spitefulness.

"We'll see about that," Estel answered. "We'll see."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

And he did. Wherever she went for the next few days it seemed like he was nearby. She could never see him actually following her, and yet he seemed to show up wherever she went. It was expressly annoying, and every time their eyes met he would measure her up, then smile for some reason, as if he was succeeding in his little endeavour. And despite her reluctance to admit it, he was. She could not fully perceive this one as a threat anymore. Annoying would be a better word, an insufferable child. But there was something about him that differed him from the other humans she'd met so long ago. An elven quality of some sort. She sensed it at times in his conversations, saw it in bearing. But that was overshadowed by how childish he was, she decided. Very childish.

On another note her own task was beginning to feel hopeless. Every day she spent her time walking around the city, and soon she felt like she knew the place like she knew the palace. She'd even begun recognizing people, like the elven man who always passed through the gardens at a certain hour, and the elleth that always seemed to have little time, hurrying everywhere with her hands full of herbs. Otherwise, there were only Rivendell elves, an endless stream of unknown, black haired elves, with only a few with silver or very dark brown hair. She truly could not tell the majority of the population apart from looking at them from behind, and when she did walk in front to look at them they would always be staring back at her, strange expressions on their faces. Despite her efforts to remain unseen she'd begun gaining quite a lot of attention, and hearing others talk about her behind her back certainly did not help her mood.

In the end she'd found her own little refuge, a nice place quite high up above the city. It was an open area by one of the pools made by the waterfall, closed in by the trees on one side and the pool and mountainside on the other. Best of all - there was never anybody there. It was one of the places in Rivendell she'd found to be particularly enchanting. That, and a certain area of the gardens, where there were a grove of trees giving it a sweet atmosphere. The latter was her current location, relaxing on one of the higher branches, her mind wandering. She'd been sleeping in that bed they provided her in her rooms, but really she'd rather sleep in one of the trees once more. Right here might be a good option.

There was a small sound, a disturbance a short ways down the path. Amariel turned, about to look closer when another sound came from the opposite direction. Loud, ringing laughter.

"… And he didn't even say a word!" A small group of young Rivendell elves approached, laughing.

"I wouldn't have said anything either," an elleth commented, flinging her dark brown hair over her shoulder. "What a strange thing to do!" There were some murmurs of consent and the group came fully into view. There were five of them, two elleths and three ellons, walking closely together. They paused near Amariel's tree. There was a lull in their conversation as the subject died, and one of the elves leaned on her tree. Amariel gripped the stem, wondering if she should make her presence known. A moment later she decided against it, leaning back and stilling her movements.

"Speaking of strange," a voice said below her. "Have you heard of the activity in the mountains?"

"Yea, the orcs?" The brunette elleth spoke once more. "There's been a sudden increase in their numbers, hasn't there? I heard Glorfindel has been out many times already, and Elrond has been caring for a human that got hurt quite recently." A black haired ellon nodded.

"I heard about that too. Wasn't he in shock when they brought him in? Something about a terrible presence, scaring him half to death. He's been inside for days now, recuperating."

"Really?" A silver haired ellon, the one leaning against her tree, sighed. "We haven't heard tidings like these in many a year. What do you think it means?" There was a pause, then many murmurs as several of the group started speaking at once, providing their own take on the matter in hushed tones. Then one voice rose above the rest.

"Well, either way I hope they're not blocking the paths near Rivendell. The twin's patrol should return soon, and we don't want their road blocked by a group of orcs, or worse!" It was the black haired elleth speaking, and immediately Amariel noted something decisive in her tone of voice. This one was not to be argued with.

"They'll be fine I imagine. The Mirkwood elves made it here intact, and they were only two. That's far more dangerous than an entire patrol." The lighter noldo commented.

"True. But then we do not know what they did on the way here either, do we?" The brunette elleth spoke up, a sudden drama to her voice. "Perhaps they know very well of the presence in the mountains. For all we know they might be _in league_ with it. After all, it does seem a bit strange that they suddenly show up now, after a millennium apart, and it coincides with some threat nearby..." There were some murmurs at that, and now their voices were low.

"What are they doing here anyway?" One ellon asked. "The ellon, Curunis or whatever his name was, he's been keeping to the library all day, writing letter upon letter. And then that Amariel? She keeps wandering around, exploring and studying our home. If those two are not up to something, I'm not an elf!"

There was a thoughtful pause. "Do you think the twins have anything to do with their sudden arrival?" It was the black haired ellon once more. "I heard their patrol chased some orcs all the way into Mirkwood just earlier this year. It's strange, isn't it? The one time they happen to enter that accursed realm, and within the year we have our first visit of Mirkwood elves in a millennium?"

"Yeah, I heard rumour some in that patrol actually met, or might have met a Mirkwood elf. Maybe one of them did something in there, and now the mirkwoodians sent these two after them. I mean that elleth? She's almost mesmerizing to look upon in the sunlight, but there is something definitely off about her."

"Mesmerizing?" The black haired elleth snorted. "Arwen is mesmerizing. That Amariel is not. She is too strange, too foreign to be any good."

"It's called exotic, Melwanis." One of the ellons responded sarcastically, but Melwanis ignored him.

"Do not listen to all the wild rumours you hear, Ornon. The twins are responsible and their patrol is skilled and experienced. They would never have had dealings with a Mirkwood elf without permission, and even if such a thing did happen, the mirkwood-elves are still elves. They might not be as light as we, but they hate darkness and anything that goes with it all the same. Do we not claim as noldor to be wisest? Then let it be shown in our words!" When there was no answer, she shook her head. "Either way," she added, almost as an afterthought, "the twins would definitely not be interested in some Mirkwood elf, no matter how "pretty" she might look. They're too lowly for the heirs of Eärendil."

"Ha, you say that because you like Elladan." One of the others laughed, but Melwanis didn't seem bothered.

"And why not. We are both of noble heritage, descended from Fingolfin, high king of the noldor. It would be a fitting match."

"You can give up, Melwanis. Our lord has not shown any real interest in any elleth for so long. I heard even some of our elders feared Elrond shall never have an heir after his firstborn son."

"I know him well, _Ornon_." Melwanis said coldly, clearly not liking the ellon. "Better than you do, in fact. I need not loose rumours to base my views upon. He and I grew up together, we're both fighters and I've recently been learned in womanly arts as well. I am a daughter of one of Elrond's closest advisors, and more so, as my name implies, I am lovely. Noble, beautiful, good family... He could not wish for a better spouse east of the sea. We are meant to be, he simply does not realize it yet."

The noldo leaning against the tree whistled at her claims, but then another snorted suddenly.

"Yes, you are the most eligible elleth unless that Thranduil ever has a daughter. But then I shudder to imagine how she would be. His wife is a silvan-avari mix, or so I've heard. What do they teach their children I wonder? A basic guide to savageness?" The others laughed, and Amariel suddenly felt a coldness wash over her.

"Nay, with how locked in they've kept their land I fear it would be more along the lines of "A thorough examination and execution of xenophobia."" There were more chortles, and finally the group moved away. They were well into it now, mocking her family and realm. It left Amariel with a sick feeling in her stomach.

When they were long gone, she jumped down from the tree, deciding then and there that from now on her only place of respite was the glade by the water, further up the mountain. She did not want to overhear any more cruel words. There was a slight scuffle from behind one of the trees, and Amariel sighed.

"Come out, Estel," she said tiredly. "I know you're there." He appeared next to one of the nearby trees, but did not move. Instead he watched her quietly, a half sad, half wary look on his face.

"You heard it all?" she could not help asking, and he nodded, a pitying expression crossing his features.

"They were cruel," he said carefully. Amariel only huffed and slid down the tree trunk behind her so she sat on the grass.

"I, for one, do not believe Mirkwood is evil," Estel said after a pause, "Nor do I think you are here on some evil errand."

"Oh really?" Amariel's eyes were closed. After listening to the other elves she suddenly felt drained. "Then what do you believe?"

"I believe that Mirkwood is the way it is because of the darkness pressing upon it. I believe Thranduil is doing the best he can according to the power given to him and his people, and is adjusting accordingly." He paused, then she heard him move slowly closer. "And you… I believe the patrol did enter the forest, and meet some of your people. Now you're here looking for someone, for that is what you are doing, is it not? The reason for which I can only imagine…" There was a long pause, and she could almost see Estel hesitate, debating with himself on whether or not to speak. Then he continued, and his voice was suddenly very low and unsure. "Are you… Are you with child?"

Amariel opened her eyes and studied the man. He was still standing at a respectable distance, but closer than he'd ever been before, and his expression was so uncertain, so honest in his attempt to come nearer to her that she almost felt sorry for the man. In that moment she realized that she'd been doing to him something akin to what the noldor just did to her and her people – assuming she knew an entire race based on rumour and very few experiences. Estel was watching her carefully, knowing very well just how far he'd gone with his last question.

"From whence does that idea come from?" Amariel asked at last.

"Just a thought." Estel hesitated. "I have travelled in many human cities, and spoken with the people living there. A child born outside of marriage seems to be a more common thing amongst humans than amongst elves." When Amariel did not respond he took a deep breath. "You have not contradicted me yet, which I think you would do if I was wrong. There is a child then?"

For a while Amariel watched him thoughtfully. Then at last she sighed. "Yes, it is true. I've been searching for the father of my child for nigh on a week now, with no success. I fear I shall never find him."

Taking her sudden revelation as an invitation, Estel came closer, then after a pause, he slowly sat down next to her, keeping some space between them. "Perhaps I could help," he said carefully. "Do you remember what he looked like?"

At that Amariel's lips quirked. "Aye, I do…" she paused, glancing at the man beside her. "But I doubt it would be any help to you."

"Try me." Estel leaned back, making himself more comfortable.

"Well, he was tall and well built, strong but lean, with defined features that seemed somehow regal, atleast to me. He had black hair, so black it almost looked bluish in the moonlight, and his eyes were silver." Amariel trailed off, and Estel opened one eye to look at her.

"Was that it?" He looked disbelievingly at her. "Most noldor have black hair and grey eyes."

"What more is there to say that will help you?" Amariel asked. "He was handsome and graceful, kind but witty, and when he moved something about him spoke of barely contained power. And then there was his eyes… They seemed to look right into the soul, and his smile could…"

"Okay, okay" Estel interrupted, casting her a quick frown. Despite herself, she grinned.

"Shall I continue? He…"

"Nay, it's enough. Really. This will not help me find him" Amariel raised her eyebrows innocently as Estel sat up, suddenly more uncomfortable. He looked at her. "You're teasing me," he said accusingly, but there was no real heat in his words.

"You asked for further description." She smiled.

"Aye, something tangible that I can recognize him from. Not the sweet fantasies of a love struck elleth!" He sighed. "Well then, your description has narrowed it down to about two thirds of Rivendell's population. That should help." He said drily. There was a pause. "Do you remember what he wore? Was there any sigil or emblem?" Amariel looked forward thoughtfully.

"It was hard to tell. The night was dark, and he was covered in dirt. We got him brushed off, but for the life of me I could not tell whether the clothes had once been rich or simple. His tunic was dark, though that might have been the stains, and his breastplate looked like it had been silver once with something emblazoned. But that too was scratched so it was hard to read."

Estel nodded. "Exactly how tall was he?" he asked at length and at that Amariel frowned.

"He was about your height I imagine," she said slowly. "Perhaps a little taller. And I remember his shoulders were a bit broader than usual, even more than most noldor." She glanced at Estel. "He was not as broad as you are, but something in between you and the noldor elves." Suddenly Estel's eyes widened with realization, then he shook his head, staring straight ahead. "Does that sound familiar?" Amariel asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," said Estel. "But I cannot imagine… Nay, I will not believe one of them would ever…" He shook his head, then stood, offering her a hand. She paused, staring at the hand for a moment nervously, then swallowed the feeling and steeled herself. Stretching out her own she took his hand and he helped her up, a small smile appearing at her action.

"Either way it seems like whomever it was you met is part of the lord's son's patrol. They are to return on the morrow." He glanced at her, something flickering in his eyes. "I imagine we shall see who it is then. Good night, Amariel." And with that the human left her standing alone in the gardens.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The next day dawned bright and fair. As usual, Amariel headed to the kitchens were she acquired a quick breakfast, then resumed her normal wandering. She had passed into Hall of Fire, a large, open room in Rivendell's main building, when suddenly a call brought her to a halt. She turned to find Estel standing there, winded.

"I think you might want to see this." He led her quickly back out of the main building of Rivendell and onto a porch, overlooking the cobblestone square where she and Curunir had first come, nigh on a week ago. Today it was filled with elves, more crossing over the bridge on horseback. Something about them was very familiar. Frowning, Amariel moved forward and gripped the railing, studying the approaching group. Their clothing and weaponry was what she'd recognized, and with a start she realized that they were the same worn by the mystery noldo she'd met. Her eyes moved from elf to elf, looking for a recognizable face in the crowd. Beside her, Estel leaned over the railing as well.

"Do you see him?" he asked quietly.

A familiar golden head passed beneath them, and Amariel watched as Glorfindel quickly weaved through the crowd. Then he grabbed somebody's hand, flinging his arm about the other and pulling him to him in a brotherly hug. For some reason, her eyes remained on the pair as they spoke, heads bent to each other. Then Glorfindel released him and moved to another near identical figure, giving him a similar greeting. The black haired ellon he'd released was grinning, and then looked up… and Amariel's breath caught. There he was, just as she'd seen him nigh on two months ago. His silver eyes were filled with mirth, his black hair drawn back in a warrior braid. Even from here she could see the strong features that had first given her pause when she saw him. Amariel pointed.

"There," she said a little breathlessly. "Who is he?" Estel followed her gaze, then his own bulged. Shock overcame is features, but Amariel was not about to wait. "Who is he?" She repeated urgently, turning to the man. "Do you know him?!"

Estel shook his head, wonder in his expression. "That is one of the twins," he said, eyes going back to the elves below. "I think it is… wait… no. Perhaps…"

"The twins? Elrond's sons?" Amariel's voice came in out in almost a squeak. There had to be some mistake. She could not have stumbled across the very princelings of the noldor….?

"Aye." Estel said. "He's Elladan. The one you pointed out." The man gestured to the identical elf now releasing himself from Glorfindel's embrace. "And that is Elrohir. Are you sure you know which of them you met?" He asked doubtfully. Amariel glanced at the other twin, but somehow she knew he was not the mystery noldo. The feeling she'd gotten at the sight of Elladan was not present when she glanced at his brother. She looked back to the first twin once more. Elladan. Oldest son of Lord Elrond, her father's old enemy. At last she had found a name to go with the face she remembered.

Beside her Estel shook his head, a laugh escaping him in disbelief. "I cannot believe he would do such a thing," he said in amazement, looking at Amariel with new eyes. "Of all the trouble he's gotten himself into this has to be…" Amariel's eyes went back down to the courtyard, then stilled. Elladan was looking straight at her. His black brows were creasing in disbelief, his mouth barely open, and for what felt like the longest time, their eyes met. His were keen and clear, inciting in her the same reaction she remembered from their night together. They held her captive, boring straight through her and for a moment she stopped breathing. Estel stopped talking when he noticed Elladan looking up at them. Then, eyes still on her, the noldo took a step forward. Amariel turned and fled.

"Hey!" She heard Estel's footfalls behind her as she leaped of the porch, sprinting past several buildings and back through the gardens. Several elves gave surprised yelps as she passed them, but she paid them no heed.

"Stop Amariel! Please!" At his voice, Amariel skidded to a halt, panting. She was standing in the gardens now, not far from where a small path led up through the forest to her little hideout. Estel caught up with her, heaving for breath.

"By the valar," he wheezed, "you're quick when you want to. Can you elves not slow down for the poor humans?" Amariel raised both arms to her face.

"He's human!" She exclaimed, to Estel's surprise.

"No, he…"

"I've been with a human!" Amariel whirled on him, and something in her expression gave the man pause.

"He's only part human," He corrected cautiously, and Amariel turned away.

"Part human, fully human… It does not matter. _Ai Elbereth_ ," the burning claim escaped her. She could see her mother in her mind's eye, her clothes torn about her, the men pressing her down, forcing her into submission. Now she'd done the same as her mother, but of free will.

"Amariel," the soft voice made her turn to Estel once more. "I am human as well," he reminded her. "We are not all evil."

"Aye…but… nay…" She caught herself and closed her eyes. They were pressing upon her, all the memories, all the images she did not want to see. She pressed her hands into her eyes until they hurt, feeling a slight wetness around them. When she finally opened her eyes she saw Estel once more, his worried gaze so different from that of the men. He was not the same. She knew he was not the same. He'd even gone to lengths to prove that very fact. He did not deserve her treatment. She sighed, the initial hotness of her thoughts dying down and leaving her thoughts clearer.

"I know," she said at length. "I'm sorry. It is only… I have not had good experiences with your race before. My naneth was…" She did not continue, but he nodded understandingly.

"There are many cruel people in the world." He said sadly. "But you'll find that Elladan is not one of them. He is a peredhel, which one could say is a race to its own, both human and elf and neither. None I have met of them has been evil. Indeed, I fear Elladan too has had cruel experiences with other races." His eyes darkened and he looked away thoughtfully. Then he shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought. "He would never give you such evil memories. I for one have none, and I've known him for years. But I think you already know that." The human suddenly paused, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "And I imagine you've had at least one good experience with him." Not understanding him at first Amariel looked at the man questioningly. Then the sudden twinkle in his eyes registered, and she gasped, pushing at him indignantly.

" _Estel!_ How dare you?!" He laughed

"Dare what? I meant that you must have had a nice time together, for clearly you got along. Are you insinuating something else?" He added innocently, and Amariel sent him a quick smile.

"Offcourse not. My thoughts are as innocent as yours." He raised an eyebrow at her, but made no comment. She'd put him in a double bind, and so silence was indeed his best option. It was new to her however, to be spoken to in such a manner. No doubt this would never have happened if he knew of her real position, she thought, for a lady was usually saved from such talk. But she was oddly fine with it. There was something innocent and fun with such light hearted teasing, a laid back quality to it that she missed. As a princess people watched their tongues around her, but after the incident that had magnified a thousandfold. Nowadays only her brothers joked with her, for everyone else seemed to be walking on egg shells in her presence. That thought brought down her mood, and she frowned. When her eyes returned to the man once more his mien was serious again aswell, his thoughts clearly having taken a similar path to hers.

"I still have a hard time believing Elladan would ever do such a thing." He said, shaking his head. "There are many that would claim relations to him, if only to benefit from the power of his name and position." He regarded her doubtfully, but Amariel let the slight insult pass. She was already a lady, with little use of his titles or the like. Rather the opposite. She, daughter of Thranduil, was pregnant with his enemy's very own son. It seemed like the scandal she'd travelled here to lessen had only gotten worse.

"Alas, if only," She said. "His name and position is as evil to me as his race might feel. Would that he was but a commoner, and I'd have much less to worry about."

AHoD

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AHoD

Not long after she was sitting in her private glade, watching as the waterfall in the distance made ripples that travelled softly over the water. Absentmindedly, she twirled a leaf in her hand as her eyes wandered thoughtfully, her mind not following her eyes as they moved over the lake.

With the recent discovery of her child's parent, it all became so much more complicated. Elladan. That was his name, atleast if Estel was right. She sighed, her eyes going to the leaf between her fingers. It was smooth, but there were small purple markings that spoke of some sickness working on it. She brushed a finger over the blemish thoughtfully. She would need to think more on her course of action, now that she knew his identity. It seemed like her arrival here might not help abate the scandal at all. She'd become pregnant with the very son of Elrond. That would make for a royal crisis for sure, even more so than not knowing the identity of the father. What would Thranduil say, she wondered. Being with some noldo and carrying his child was one thing, but being with an Elrondion, son of one she knew from his words that he had little love of… That was something entirely different. She truly was unsure of how to broach the subject to him when time came, even of how to broach the subject to Elladan. At the moment she felt extremely young and inexperienced.

 _Curunir would know_ , a small voice in her head told her. He was a good judge of character as well as a good fighter and strategist. It was what gained him the position of general all those years ago, and it was what could be of great value to her now. But she had barely spoken with Curunir after their disagreement, and somehow she still did not want to. Even though she'd come to trust Estel, at least enough to speak with him, the betrayal she felt of Curunir remained. She knew she'd have to tell him about her find, but had no desire to seek him out yet. Later, she thought. She would tell him later. Then they could figure out her dilemma together. Atleast now she'd done half of what she came here for. The princess of Mirkwood sighed, then leaned back on the grass and started softly on a song, letting the familiar tune soothe her worries. It had become a habit of hers when she was in the glade, for she enjoyed the way her voice seemed to carry over the waters, mingling with the sound of trickling water. It created a harmonious atmosphere she never experienced in her own home, and sometimes - sometimes - she even imagined that the pool responded to her, soaking up her song and trickling it softly back at her when she'd stopped singing. No doubt Imladris itself had something to do with that feeling. She closed her eyes as she sang, letting her senses expand as the glade felt lighter, purer. She knew the song was a long one, and yet it all felt too short, and soon her voice faded as the song ended, and the glade was silent once more. Her eyes strayed back to the small leaf beside her to find it unblemished, and she smiled contentedly. There truly was something enchanting about Imladris, some other power lending it this harmonious atmosphere. What else could be the cause of this? Not even their own Green Wood felt this pure, though silvans and sindar alike worked day and night to keep it clean and healthy. Her thoughts strayed once more to Elrond and the noldor living here. And at that, an old, nearly forgotten tune came back to her.

When she'd first heard it, she had loved the song for the melody was beautiful and the words heartfelt. It was a sad song, for it told of the first age from the perspective of the sindarin people of Oropher, from the time when there was still no sun and moon, until the time the sindar left from Doriath, now abandoned, and wandered back over the mountains into Greenwood the Great. The song was rarely sung in Mirkwood nowadays, for it included many noldorin lords of old, and after the kinslayings the teleri descendants tended to carry a dislike of that race and their lords. Amariel thought about it for a while, then, slowly and softly she hummed the ancient sindarin song, remembering the melody, for it was not an easy one and it had taken Amariel many tries to get the tune right the first time she sang it. Then her voice strengthened and words were formed, for where better to revive the old song than in Imladris? She sang then, of Doriath and Gondolin, of the coming of the noldor, and of the kinslayings, of the oathbound sons of Feanor and the slaying of Thingol and later, Dior, the last king Oropher had even considered recognizing. Like with most elven songs she could see the places in her mind's eye, for they were made by people who had lived through the events themselves. She closed her eyes as she sang to better see the images, and somehow they seemed stronger and clearer in Imladris than elsewhere. But when she opened her eyes once more it seemed like there had been no need to close them, for before her, she saw a vision from of a noldorin lord returned from the first age. He stood tall and still, draped in subtle, yet magnificent, deep blue and grey clothing. At his side shone a sword with an intricate handle emblazoned with a single star, and beneath black brows, his silver gaze was extraordinary, clear and deep. Something about the sight made her falter and the song ended, and she stared at the vision in incomprehension, expecting it to disappear with the song. But it did not.

Then of a sudden she realized that she recognized him, though his clothes and posture was different than the first time they'd met. Her eyes widened and she stood quickly, in one fluent movement turning away from him and taking a step to flee.

"No!" A warm hand closed around her wrist, stopping her escape. "You're not leaving again. Not this time."

Amariel turned slowly to look upon the noldor and was met once more with that keen gaze. He studied her face, then his eyes travelled down her form, taking in her simple garb and soiled knees, so different from his own subtle, yet exquisite one.

"Who are you?" She was too stunned to answer and the noldor released her hand. "Please. I know you recognize me, I can see it on your face. May I please ask your name?"

"Amariel." He smiled slowly.

"Amariel," he repeated, seemingly memorizing it. "Would you join me, lady Amariel?"

She hesitated. "What are you doing here?" she asked at last.

"I suppose the same as you did, long ago. I'm taking a break." He said, quoting her words from their first encounter, his lips quirking. Then, placing a hand lightly upon her elbow, he drew her nearer carefully, inviting her to sit upon a jutting rock overlooking the lake. Quietly she sat, and he joined her, still studying her curiously. "Though it is quite different from where you went to do the same."

"I guess…"Amariel sat on the tip of the stone, feeling very uncomfortable and unsure. She was supposed to speak with Curunir first, map out their best course of action. Instead he had appeared here, before she knew what to do. "What is your name?" she asked after the silence had drawn on. He raised an eyebrow.

"You do not know?" Somehow he sounded relieved, and she glanced at him, wondering at the emotion.

"Not at the time of our first encounter, no. I had no way of knowing…" Her eyes flickered to the pommel of his sword where the star was emblazoned. The star of Eärendil she realized, the very one mentioned in the song she'd been singing when he arrived. "Although I think I know now..." She was still holding on to a hope, however small, that there'd been some mistake, but it was fading quickly for in her heart she knew Estel had been right. Who else could he be?

"It is time we get introduced properly then," The noldor turned and put a hand on his chest in a formal greeting. "My name is Elladan Elrondion. It is a pleasure meeting you." There was a slight twinkle in his eye at the introduction and it reminded her of their earlier meeting, when titles had been a subject.

"Then it is a pleasure meeting you, my lord." Amariel rose and curtsied as she knew one should do with one of such high standing. Her eyes went to his and lingered there for a moment. "So you are a lord. You lied to me." She said, somewhat accusingly. She could not help the smallest smile on her lips though. Something about him brought out that reaction.

"T'is just a title." He said, and with a hand on her arm, he silently bid her sit once more. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes. Again she noticed his frame, sturdier than most elves but still too narrow and lithe to be human. Half human, she reminded herself. She could still not get used to that thought. He glanced at her curiously.

"Although I think your previous question is more fitting for me to ask of you, than the opposite. What are you doing here?" Amariel hesitated, considering repeating their official reason for the visit. Then her eyes met his.

"I did not know who you were. I thought it was some kind of dream."

"Is that a common dream for you to have?" Amariel shot him a look, and he smiled innocently.

"I had to know." She insisted. "And so I came with Curunir."

"I'm glad you did." He said seriously. "I had a similar experience in fact. I was convinced you were just an hallucination, for why would there be an elleth all alone in the dangerous forest of Mirkwood?" He paused, eyes lingering on her. "And if there was, why would she leave before I woke?"

"Leave?" Amariel repeated, "I beg to differ. I returned to the camp and you were gone, along with any trace of our fire."

" _Returned_ ," Elladan repeated, "implies you left and came back, and so my question stands. Why did you leave?"

"I had to wash myself after…" Amariel stopped, feeling her cheeks suddenly heat up and suddenly understanding dawned on Elladan's face. But he did not have time to answer, for just then another voice spoke, similar to that of Elladan.

"After what?" Amariel whirled to find another noldor standing there, a mirror image of the one still sitting upon the rock. The newcomer raised an eyebrow when he saw her, glancing down at Elladan for explanation. Elladan stood.

"Meet my brother," he said to Amariel, a slight smirk on his face as she looked between them quickly, attempting to discern a difference on their faces. "Lord Elrohir Elrondion. Elrohir, this is Amariel of Mirkwood." Elrohir nodded, giving her the formal salute which she returned in kind with a curtsy. Even so, she noticed his eyes quickly flicker to his brother at the mention of Mirkwood.

"Then you must be one of the two Mirkwood elves that arrived a week ago," Elrohir smiled. "It is a pleasure meeting you. It has been so long since we've ever seen one of your people, much less spoken to them. Centuries infact."

Amariel nodded. "Aye, t'is a sad fact, but for good reason as well, I imagine. We have become rather secluded, but as I'm sure your brother can attest to, our forest is not as open as it used to be either."

Elrohirs eyes flickered to his brother quickly, a question in them. It seemed to have been answered, for he turned back to Amariel, eyes quickly and discreetly studying her with renewed interest. He offered an apologetic smile.

"You know of our escapade into the forest, then," he said carefully and it was not a question. "I can assure you we had no wish to infringe upon your King's realm or the people's forest. I'm sure you understand, and will treat this unfortunate accident as such." Amariel studied him.

"I knew of his infringement," she said, eyes flickering to Elladan, "but not yours. I would like to hear that story, if only to convince myself of its harmlessness. Either way I have no interest in raising an issue where there is none." There were enough issues to be raised already, she thought, excluding this little incident. It would hardly be at the forefront of Thranduil's mind when she returned.

"Thank you." Elrohir's eyes flickered to his brother once more, an expression on his face she could not read. "I came for looking for you, brother." He said. "The patrol are restless, they've been bothering me about doing something for a long time now. They want to go to the trainingfields." Elladan frowned.

"Already?" he asked in exasperation. "Do they not want to relax after our journey?"

"Rather the opposite," Elrohir said. "They are too energized by it, and we did not set a hard pace on the last leg of the journey. They will need some time to calm down I imagine."

"Alright then." Elladan said. "If you would find them, tell them to meet me on the fields." Elrohir nodded, and with a last, lingering glance at Amariel, he left. Elladan turned to her.

"Would you care to join us?" He asked. "We have heard much of the archers of Mirkwood. It would be a privilege to see those techniques in action."

Amariel hesitated, for a moment wondering how he knew she was an archer. Then she remembered the warg she'd shot when they first met. Not thinking through her next words she nodded, smiling. "It would be an honour. I too, have heard a lot of noldorin archery." Immediately, Elladan's head snapped to her.

"Indeed? I was not aware we were famed for our skill in archery," he commented, and Amariel winced.

"Perhaps not for your skill." She said vaguely. Infact it was rather the opposite, but she was not about to tell that to the noldorin lord. Elladan seemed to have guessed however.

"Then if not for our skill, it must be the lack of it."

"I am sure you can hit your intended target well," she said trying to lessen her mistake, but the noldor beside her laughed.

"You think we can hit our targets?" He repeated. "You speak like one does of a child attempting archery for the first time!"

Involuntarily, Amariel tipped her head as if considering the thought because aye, that was indeed close to how some in Mirkwood viewed noldorin archers. Elladan watched her quietly.

"We'll see about that." He said, and when their eyes met there was a slight challenge in his. "We'll see." He stood then, offering a hand for her to take. After a moment of hesitation she accepted his help, and then Elladan led her towards the fields, navigating easily through the small forest and then over the dirt path past several houses. A couple of elves of elves saluted him as he passed, and he grinned, speaking with them easily and introducing Amariel, before continuing their way towards the fields. The whole process reminded her much of her own treatment back home, and Amariel worried inside. This was going to be a challenge.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

 **Authors Note:**

Hey, sorry about the absence. There's been a lot of work recently, and since most of my writing has been on later chapters it will take some time to bridge the gap, so to speak. As an apology for my absence this chapter is about 1 ½ times longer than usual, and there will probably be another one coming in a week. Hope you enjoyed reading this, despite the long break!


	7. Chapter 6: An Unexpected Arrival

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 6: An unexpected arrival**

By the time they reached the fields, Amariel was feeling cheated. At one point during the conversation, Elladan had brought up archery once more and upon realizing his patrol might arrive before their archery practice was finished, Amariel had expressed her unwillingness to practice it. He'd been surprised and unrelenting in his questioning as to why that was. Then, somehow, he'd twisted her words until she was the one arguing for archery and him against. Something about it being the domain of woodelves and useless in comparison to noldorin swords, and she'd felt a need to protect the artform as her brother would put it. She swore to prove it's usefulness and he'd readily offered a small contest using their equipment. At his smile she immediately knew that that had been his aim all along, and thus she was now frowning, watching as he prepared the bow and arrows he'd collected. Elladan raised an eyebrow at her, and she gestured at the target nearby.

"Go ahead," she said, and thankfully he made no comment. Instead he notched his arrow, took a deep breath, aimed and shot. The arrow struck true, though only barely. Amariel frowned.

"You learned to shoot here?" She asked.

"Aye, in Rivendell." She nodded and leaned down, picking up an arrow. Elladan turned to her. "Why?"

"Nothing." She reached a hand out for the bow, but Elladan withheld it.

"First, you explain why you asked."

"There was no reason." She glanced around, noting that they were alone on the fields. "Hand me the bow, and let's get this over with." Amariel reached for the bow, but Elladan lifted it out of her reach.

"No." He met her eyes defiantly, and something about the look in his eyes, that laughter hiding within, made her stop short. He was challenging her! She drew back with a pout, then set her jaw.

"Fine! The rumours were right. You do shoot like a child."

" _What?"_ Amariel stretched out a hand.

"Bow."

"If I'm not mistaken, you are the child amongst us." Elladan commented haughtily.

"True. I believe I misspoke." She glanced up at him, a glint in her eye. "You shoot like a noldor."

For a moment Elladan only stared at her. "Now who is the haughty one?"

"Haughty? I am merely telling the truth. It is well known that Mirkwood has the best archers and hunters. Silvans and avari have always been inclined towards the art."

"Then you shoot. Let us see how well you do." Amariel accepted the bow, and quickly shot an arrow to get attuned to the new weapon. Then she aimed for their target, breathing deeply as she usually did. To her surprise she did not need much time to calm herself: The bow was already very steady in her hand, despite Elladan's relatively foreign presence right next to her. She let her breath go, aimed, and fired. The arrow hit the very centre of the target, just left of Elladan's previous arrow. She turned to him and grinned.

The son of Elrond merely huffed and took the bow from her, notching another arrow. Yet again it hit at the very rim of the target centre, this time above hers. Elladan stared at it in dismay.

Some odd urge struck Amariel then, and she could not help whispering in his ear as she passed him, "Like a noldo."

There was a pause, then -

" _I'll show you noldo_ " To her shock, Elladan suddenly came at her from behind, an arm going around her waist. With a strangled shriek, Amariel jumped to the side, twisting, and down they both went. Elladan seemed bent on tickling her, but she squirmed and fought him ferociously, and soon the goal seemed to be to pin her instead. Every time he came close, Amariel would twist or turn, getting out of his grip. Suddenly he had both her hands pinned next to her head, and Amariel was stuck. Elladan grinned.

"Archery didn't help you much now did it? _Now_ who won?" She struggled defiantly, but to no avail. His hands clamped down harder and she breathed deeply, meeting his eyes. They glinted laughingly in the sunlight, and for a moment she stared at him. Then suddenly the air seemed to change. Amariel's mind went back to the last time they'd been in a similar position, and unbidden, her eyes flickered down to his lips. She felt Elladan tense above her, something in the sparkle dying away, replaced by a new emotion. There was a slight pause, and his grip loosened. His eyes moved to her lips…

Amariel bucked her hips violently, casting him off balance. In a quick move, she twisted her hands from his now soft grip, and rolled. A moment later she was on top, pinning down a very surprised Elladan.

"I did." She said, grinning. She could feel the slight blush she'd gained starting to abate, for which she was thankful. The captain beneath her was too stunned to answer. Then slowly a grin appeared.

Someone clapped slowly.

"Well done Elladan!" came Elrohir's sarcastic voice, "You've been beaten at last." There was laughter, and suddenly Amariel became aware of the audience they'd gained. Elrohir was standing on the field watching them, along with several members of the twin's patrol.

"It seems like our skilled and all-powerful captain has finally met his equal." A patrol member joked, and there were some more chuckles. At that moment Amariel became very aware of the compromising position they were still in. She stood quickly, feeling her cheeks light up.

"Oh please, my lady," Another member of the patrol said. As soon as she was on her feet he came up to her, taking her hands and feigning a begging voice. "Let me in on the secret! How did you beat Elladan, o' the unbeatable?" There were more snickers around her, and Amariel could almost feel her blush deepen. Behind her Elladan stood, dusting himself off. He did not seem at all embarrassed by his friend's teasing. Instead he smiled at her apologetically.

"Forgive them, lady Amariel." He said solemnly, but there was a flicker to his gaze that betrayed the act. "I've been trying to teach my patrol manners for a millennium, but I fear I have not succeeded yet." He shot the elf in front of her a pointed look, but the other ignored it. He let her go, and sauntered up to stand in front of Elladan. Then he stared up at the twin, forming wide, doe eyes and blinking rapidly.

"Oh please, my lord! I am but a sweet maiden fair…" Suddenly Elladan grabbed him around his neck catching the other in a headlock

"Hey!" The elf protested, and soon there was another fight going on, this one more ferocious than hers had been. There were hoots and shouts amongst the audience as the two wrestled, the patrol converging around them eagerly. Elrohir came up beside her.

"Sorry about this," he said a bit abashedly. "We usually have more manners." Amariel shook her head, drawing her gaze away from the fight.

"It is alright," she said. "I'm used to seeing Mirkwood soldiers in the training barracks and even on the streets in plain daylight. They make you look civilized in comparison."

"Really?" Elrohir glanced at her. "So you've spent a lot of time at your training barracks?" It was an innocent question, but Amariel felt the smile die on her face.

"Yes, before. I have not been there much for quite a while though." It was yet another of the hobbies she'd dropped after the horrid events long ago. On the field, Elladan had finally subdued the other, who was now lying helplessly beneath him, his hair a mess. There were some sounds of disappointment as the downed elf sighed, admitting defeat. Apparenly most of the patrol had been rooting for him. Elladan straightened mock scowling at his patrol.

"I do not think you know these elves," Elrohir said at her side as the others gathered around them once more. "Let me introduce them to you."

And he did. There was Borondil, and Beleg, Laindur and Finnor. Iston, the one whose hair had gotten ruffled, was their cartographer. He knew almost the entire map of Beleriand and Rhovanion by heart, as well as many different plant and animal species. Sadron was the second in command, and the oldest of their group and Rhonir was their scout. When his name was mentioned the scout grinned at her and immediately launched into his own little speech. Apparently, he held the Mirkwood elves in high regard, despite the estrangement between their peoples.

"The silvans of your forest are known for their stealthiness," he said excitedly. "They say a silvan who hides in the trees can never be seen. That is a very useful skill to a scout, and though I can pass undetected by most I do not think I have reached their level of proficiency. How I'd love to learn from your people! You do not happen to know any who might be willing to lecture me in this subject? Or perhaps…" At that moment, he'd fastened his eyes on her hair. "But you are silvan as well, are you not?" He asked. "Have you learnt this skill? Perhaps you could teach me?"

At that Elladan broke in, probably sensing her unease, and she assured Rhonir that she'd consider it. Then finally there was Hannas who often functioned as their cook. At his introduction, the others mocked his food making skills good-naturedly, at which he challenged them to cook for themselves. That quickly cut their teasing remarks short, but not for long. Soon they started bickering with each other good naturedly once more, and challenges were soon made, elves pairing up and sparring on the field. Elrohir asked Amariel kindly if she wanted to join one such bout, but she gracefully declined, seating herself with the onlookers instead as they cheered on the matches. Often, Elladan would sit beside her, and they would speak for a while before he was challenged once more by one of his patrol members. Only a couple of fights in and she could already see why he was the captain. With the sword in his hand, Elladan was both fast and strong, and she could tell he often dominated the fights though their style was very different from the style of Mirkwood warriors.

She also found that they joked amongst themselves a lot, teasing and laughing at each other over any small issue, speaking with a familiarity that spoke of many years together and tight bonds. With them time past quickly and Amariel found herself laughing and truly enjoying herself for the first time since her arrival in Rivendell, their easy acceptance of her making her feel comfortable. That was until one patrol member decided to make a teasing remark on her expense. Her cheeks reddened and the patrol laughed, and soon more were forthcoming, often drawing Elladan into it in some joking manner. Amariel sighed after one particularly embarrassing remark concerning their meeting earlier that morning, resigned to her fate, for they all seemed to enjoy mocking their captain and delighted in her blushes. And so the day passed, and before she knew it there was a familiar shout.

"Amariel!" She turned to see Curunir entering the field with Glorfindel at his side. "Amariel, I have looked for you all day! Where have you been?"

"Oh no, I forgot to tell him." Amariel stood quickly, brushing herself off when someone took her hand, halting her.

"Who is that?" Elladan asked, looking at Curunir curiously.

"Lord Curunir, the previous general of Mirkwood," Amariel introduced quickly, feeling her arm prickle. "A relative of mine."

"A relative?" Elladan's eyes went back to the elves waiting afar, and there was a slight frown on his lips. "You never told us of your relatives," he commented "not even your family."

"The subject did not arise."

"And yet it would have been normal to mention it."

"And perhaps not." There was a pause.

"Will you be at the glade tomorrow morning?" Elladan asked.

"We shall see." He tipped his head, a slight frown on his face.

"You are a bit secretive, aren't you?" He commented at last. Amariel forced a smile, eyes meeting Elladan's out of the corner of her eyes.

"They say it is a trait of silvans, do they not?" An eyebrow rose, and he let her go.

"Maybe," he said. "but with you I have every intention of finding out.".

Not responding, Amariel hurried over to Curunir, who was frowning at her from the edge of the field.

"Sorry, Curunir," she breathed as she neared him. "I will explain, but I need to speak with you." Something about her expression gave him pause, and his frown deepened.

"I see you've met the lord's sons," Glorfindel commented, reminding her of his presence.

"Aye," Amariel said carefully. "I stumbled across them earlier today. Or rather, they stumbled across me." They started walking of the field, and to her dismay Glorfindel joined them.

"Indeed?" He tipped his head. "I do not think "stumbled across" is a fitting use of words when one is actively searching for someone else. Do you?" It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water down Amariel's back. How could Glorfindel know when she'd not even told Curunir yet?!

"My lord?" She asked supressing the urge to glance at Curunir.

"When one actively searches for another," Glorfindel repeated, watching her carefully. "One does not _stumble across them_ , or so I would believe…"

"Nay, I guess not." Amariel frowned, tipping her head in feigned confusion. "I… I don't understand where you are going with this…?"

"Elladan asked for you, before he'd even gotten out of the courtyard this morning. When I did not know where you were, he was ready to go searching for you immediately. The only thing that stopped him was the obligatory report he had to make to his father. Even so, lord Elrond barely convinced him to at least get changed before he left in search of you. He disappeared, and we've only just discovered him again here, with you. It does beg the question, what interest does Elladan have in you? And how did he know of your presence here _before_ we'd told him anything of our two Mirkwood visitors?"

Amariel's cheeks were burning. Valar, had he truly been searching for her like that? She could feel both generals watching her carefully, and she shook her head, glad of the cover some of her loose tresses provided her.

"I… I did not know that, my lord." She stammered at last. "I only saw him in the courtyard, I did not speak with him."

"You only saw him?" Glorfindel repeated disbelievingly.

"Aye." She forced herself to look at the lord, meeting the calculating light grey eyes. "I was on the porch that morning with Estel. I saw him, and I think he saw me, but we did not speak. I left soon after."

"Indeed." Something about Glorfindel's tone made her look up, and his expression was hard to fathom, both serious and laughing at the same time.

"I did not know," she repeated uncertainly, but he only raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell that. I trust you've gotten along well?" Her blush deepened and Amariel looked to Curunir for guidance, but there was no support there. He looked almost… exasperated.

"Lord Elladan has been very kind, as has his patrol."

"Good." Glorfindel glanced to the side, then he stopped and faced them. "I have some duties to attend to, so this is where I leave you. Have a good night." Curunir returned the wish and then Glorfindel was off, quickly entering the main building of Rivendell. They watched him go for a moment before Curunir put an arm around her, leading her back to his rooms. They spoke little on the way there, but once inside Curunir let her go and dropped into one of the armchairs, studying her tiredly.

"Ai Amariel, what will we do with you?"

"I have done nothing wrong," Amariel said defensively.

"Nay you have not, and yet you've caught the interest of young lord Elladan even so." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "This complicates matters."

"It does." Amariel sat on an opposing armchair, looking at Curunir. "If it helps, I really had no idea who he was," she said.

"Really?" Curunir looked surprised. "How could you not have known? Surely he must have told you his name."

"Nay, that is the whole reason we came here in the first place!" Amariel exclaimed, wondering at Curunir's words. "Do not tell me have forgotten already?"

"Offcourse I did not forget. But we did not come for the son of Elrond. We came for…" Suddenly Curunir trailed off, his face turning slack. "Him?"

"Him what?"

" _Elladan_ is the father?" Curunir suddenly had an intense look, leaning forward in his chair and for a moment Amariel hesitated.

"Aye," she said slowly. "I thought you had guessed that already considering your line of questioning." Curunir leaned back, eyes fastened on her. Then, he laughed.

"I had not, actually" he said. "From your retelling I assumed the same as I presume Glorfindel must have. I thought you merely met lord Elladan this day and caught his eye. That would have also have complicated matters greatly." He paused, shaking his head. "I was in on the secret and yet you fooled me none the less. Who would have thought."

She did not know how to respond to that, then Curunir focused on her once more, humour gone. "Either way Elladan being the father does… convolute things. For one we must now include lord Elrond himself in this affair. We cannot uphold this ice front between our two peoples anymore, not if there is a child born of both royal lines. Thranduil and Elrond must settle their differences, which I think would be a difficult though not impossible. What I do worry about is how to inform them both and their reactions." He sighed. "Then we must also remember the position of the child. There is now going to be a bastard born to both houses, which no doubt will heighten the crisis."

"Then what should I do? We could attempt to return, keep the child's father unknown." Even as Amariel suggested it she felt a tightening in her, a reluctance to follow her own proposition.

"Would you do that?" Curunir asked doubtfully. "Would you leave your child to grow up a bastard with only one parent?"

"Nay, I would not."

"Then there is only one course of action. You must tell them who you are and why you are here." Curunir said simply.

"But what do you think Elrond would think of this?" Amariel asked uncertainly. "Or Elladan for that matter? I do not think he holds any love for adar, what will he think when he learns that I am his daughter? How will they all act?" She was genuinely frightened at the prospect, but Curunir's eyes softened.

"I think the enimity between our two realms is not as strong as you imagine, my dear Amariel." He said. "Though there is a general dislike between the realms, a dislike that goes both ways, I do not think most could consider fighting the other realm on that reason alone."

"But you do not know for certain?"

"Nay, I do not." Curunir was silent for a while. "All I know is that Thranduil has more reason to dislike Elrond than the opposite way around. Thus, Elrond might be kinder to you if the centuries of seclusion have not overly lowered his opinion of Thranduil. Either way the child you bear will surely protect you if worst comes to worst."

"Protect me," Amariel repeated dully, attempting to imagine situations where that would be needed.

Curunir placed an arm around her.

"What are your plans tomorrow?" He asked.

"None yet, but Elladan wondered if I'd meet him in the glade tomorrow."

"You should. I think that is as good a time as any to tell the lord. Getting to know Elladan could help show them that you have good intents and might soften the blow."

Amariel nodded. "And you, Curunir? What will you do?"

"I've finished all my letters so I'll simply wait, I imagine. Enjoy myself and relax while it lasts." Curunir looked thoughtfully out the window. "I think this trip has been good for me as well. I was not aware how tiring Mirkwood can truly be." Amariel stood and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Then I am glad something good has come out of it," she said, also looking out the window. It was darkening outside. "Whatever happens next."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Amariel watched as Elladan raised the bow, aiming carefully at the target. Already they'd been together for some time, meeting in the glade before proceeding down to the trainingfields where Elrohir and the rest would arrive shortly. She'd noted that Elladan must have left his group to spend time with her, which gave her a strange feeling inside, but despite their time alone, she had not told him of his child yet. A hand landed on her back and she startled, looking up into the eyes of the Elladan. Behind him his arrow was lodged in the target, once more barely missing the center.

"Are you allright?" he asked. Amariel nodded, stepping out of his touch then raising her own bow.

"I am fine." Once more she breathed in and aimed, and her hand was steady. It made her frown deepen, even as she concentrated on the target. She could not understand herself when she was with Elladan. On one side, the thought of his race still unsettled her and she withdrew from his touches. On the other, she did not truly feel frightened. Even when he'd tackled her just yesterday she had not had the response she would expect of herself. More than anything she'd been shocked that a lord would suddenly behave in such a brazen manner, and even more when she herself returned it. But she had not been as frightened as she would expect of such close contact. The arrow zinged, then it hit the center of the target, and Amariel lowered her bow.

"You're good," Elladan complimented from beside her, studying the target. "The bow and arrow seems to come naturally to you."

"Aye, but I've had a lot of training." Amariel smiled. "Even as a child I fell in love with the weapon."

"A child?" Elladan sounded surprised. "No child is allowed to hold such a weapon here, or anywhere else I've heard of."

"It is not allowed in Mirkwood either." Amariel studied her bow, mind going back to those early days. "But that did not stop me from attempting to make my own bows and arrows of branches I collected, using my own hair as string. They did not work at all to begin with, but eventually I managed to launch small twigs and pins I found at unsuspecting elves on the street. Completely harmless missiles offcourse, for my homemade bow could barely launch anything more than a few feet. But I loved it nonetheless. I even named it Ornith," she said fondly.

"Tree sister?" Elladan looked like he was about to laugh.

"Aye. I practiced with it everyday."

"What happened to it?"

"My victims started complaining. Eventually naneth had to confiscate it and I never saw it again. Or…" Amariel paused, looking at the ellon out of the corner of her eyes. "That is the official story, atleast. Because it would have been outrageous if my dear adar made a small bow out of Ornith and gave me some lessons on shooting with it," she smiled. "And it certainly would not be acceptable if I got to keep it until wear and tear broke it, as long as I only used it in his or naneth's presence."

Elladan smiled. "Indeed." He glanced at the target. "Will you teach me then? The silvan way of shooting an arrow?"

For a moment Amariel paused. That skill was almost sacred to her people, an artform not lightly shared with outsiders.

"Okay." Amariel raised her own bow. "There are only some small differences. Like this, see my shoulders?" She demonstrated, noting the subtle differences she'd seen between their stances. Then Elladan raised his bow and copied her, straightening and aiming at the target. Automatically, Amariel moved forward to correct his stance, lightly touching his elbow and raising his chin. As she studied his grip, a sudden scent touched her nostrils. Subdued but enchanting, it recalled the clear scent of the hidden valley. And it was very familiar. Amariel stepped back abruptly, feeling her cheeks heat. Elladan looked at her questioningly but she did not meet his eyes. Instead she nodded at the target. "Go ahead." Focusing on it he stilled, then let loose the arrow, watching as it hit hers before lodging right next to it.

He smiled at her and looked ready to say something, but Amariel quickly dropped her gaze and lifted her bow. "My turn," she muttered and there was no answer as she notched an arrow, aiming carefully. She could feel him gaze at her. Then -

"You're sweet when you blush."

The arrow left her bow and flew wildly offcourse, lodging itself in the ground. Amariel turned to the noldo in surprise, immediately feeling her cheeks blossom. He laughed, and in a quick movement he traced her cheek before she could react.

"There you go." He glanced at the target.

"And you missed, which means I win." He was right. For a moment Amariel looked at the target where two of his arrows were lodged, but only one of hers. She frowned.

"You unbalanced me!" she said accusingly.

"I gave you a harmless compliment." Elladan walked over to pick up the errant arrow. "And a true one at that. When your cheeks redden the contrast makes your eyes light up all the greener." He smiled. "Lovely." Amariel blinked, once more torn from her train of thought.

"It was still a distraction," she said stoutly. "I would never use such unsporting tactics on you!"

"Wouldn't you?" Suddenly he advanced on her, his voice turned low and nearly threatening. "I seem to remember you doing that exact thing just a day ago…" Amariel stepped back from his advance, but he merely mirrored her move, following her smoothly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to tear her eyes away from his but it was impossible. The silver depths were suddenly burning, and there was nothing she could do to release herself from their hold. Her back hit a tree, and Elladan stepped close, crowding her.

"Did you not suddenly change your line of thought when I'd had you pinned?" He asked in a low voice, leaning close until their breaths mingled. "Did your eyes not flicker to my lips," His eyes flickered down, "anticipating…" Amariel could not respond. Her breath was short, eyes wide as she stared at him. Suddenly Elladan withdrew, moving back to their previous positions.

"You get one more shot," he said to her, eyes dancing. "I will not distract you again."

For a moment, all Amariel could do was take a deep breath. Then she accepted the bow and attempted to shoot. But this time, her hands were shaking. Elladan grinned as the second arrow missed the center of the target. She was still distracted by him, and he knew it. She lowered the bow in dismay, then frowned at the teasing noldo.

"Remind me never to help you again," she muttered, her heart still beating hard in her chest.

He was about to answer but a sudden shout made them both look to the other side of the field. Sadron was hurrying over to them, alone. That was not as planned. Immediately Elladan walked over to his second in command, brow furrowing. Amariel followed.

"They've arrived," Sadron panted as soon as he was within earshot. "The convoy has arrived! Elrohir and the others headed there immediately."

"Are they allright?" Elladan asked, and the two elves started back across the field.

"Aye, they crossed the mountains safely. They were assaulted by orcs along the way but they were well defended. It seems they've even picked up some extra elves along the way." At that Sadron's eyes strayed to Amariel and she frowned.

"What convoy?" The princess asked, looking between the two elves. "What are you talking about?" They both glanced back at where she stood, and of a sudden Elladan seemed to remember her. He grinned, taking her hand.

"Come," He said, pulling her along of the field. "You'll see."

They reached the courtyard of arrival soon after, and once more it was filled with elves. She only barely had a glimpse of the crowd, noting several of the patrol members amongst them, before Elladan led her into the throng, elves giving way for him in respect.

Elrond was standing not far from the stables, along with Elrohir, Estel and a couple of other elves. Finally letting her go, Elladan pushed his way straight through the small group, exclaiming. Then suddenly he'd enveloped another elf in his embrace, lifting her straight of the ground. The elves around laughed, and the two embracing elves shared some muffled words. Then Elladan withdrew partly, keeping his hands lifted to the face of the newcomer.

"Your convoy was late," he said. "and there's been reports of orcs milling in the mountains. I was so worried about you!"

"We all were, Elladan." Elrond corrected. He was gazing at the pair affectionately, his normally enigmatic eyes filled with joy and love. For all the world he looked at that moment first and foremost like a proud father.

The elleth let out a laugh, her voice soft and sweet. "You should not have," she said. "You know grandmother would never send me without a sufficient guard."

"Even so." Elladan kissed her forehead. "I'm so glad you're home."

"So am I." She smiled, and then several more words were exchanged quietly but Amariel turned away. She felt like an intruder, listening in on this very private encounter. Finally Elladan let his arms fall, stepping back. Only then did Amariel get to see the elleth properly. She could not help the soft gasp that escaped her.

The lady before her was more beautiful than any she'd ever seen before. She bore herself with a grace and dignity that spoke of noble heritage, with midnight hair falling in soft waves down her back and clear eyes that seemed to flicker in the light. Her features were somehow both elegant and lovely, beyond anything Amariel could ever have imagined.

At her gasp those twinkling silver eyes turned to her, so alike to her brothers' and yet not. She looked surprised.

"Ai, where are our manners?" Elladan moved over to Amariel then, placing an arm lightly on her back and motioning her forward.

"Amariel, this is Arwen, my sister." He motioned to the captivating elleth. "Arwen, this is Amariel. She's one of two Mirkwood elves that arrived here a week past."

Amariel curtsied, placing a hand on her chest and bending her head deference. So this was the lady about which she'd heard so many tales. They did not do her justice by far. Arwen smiled, returning the curtsy.

"Amariel," she repeated. "That is a beautiful name. It is a pleasure meeting you." Amariel blinked, attempting to clear her thoughts through her shock.

"Not as beautiful as yours," she said. "It is truly a pleasure and honour meeting you, my lady."

"You are from Mirkwood?" Arwen asked, studying Amariel. She nodded.

"What a coincidence. We actually met a group of Mirkwood elves at the base of the mountains. Perhaps you know them?"

"At the base of the Misty Mountains?" Amariel repeated, feeling a frown settle on her face. "Nay, I cannot say I know of any that would be there at this time. I cannot be sure though."

"Well, there is no need to wonder." Arwen smiled at her. "You see, they arrived here with us. The extra numbers proved quite useful in the mountains too."

Amariel felt the eyes of the gathering on her as those words settled in. She swallowed, immediately looking about the crowd.

"I did not see any Mirkwood elves when I arrived here," she said.

"But they are here." There was a slight frown on Arwen's face.

"So you do not know who might have come, or why?" Amariel turned to find Elrond gazing at her, his face once more unreadable.

Amariel shook her head, eyes scanning the crowds. She could feel adrenaline rushing through her as she looked. She might have an idea, but she had truly thought her little coverup would earn her more time than this. A month at the very least! Then her eyes alighted on a familiar face, and her heart dropped.

Megor was grinning back at her, an almost triumphant look on his face.

"Well, look who it is!" He shouted, making his way over. "My sweet princess!"


	8. Chapter 7: Complications

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 7: Complications**

If only she could turn invisible, Amariel thought as the ellon approached. If she'd gotten much attention before, it was nothing compared to this.

"Lord Megor." The name sounded more like a statement than anything else, but in her state it was all she could muster. The elf grinned.

"So this is where you went. We were looking for you." Megor made no formal greeting, and received none in return.

"I did not know that," Amariel said carefully. She'd straightened, her stance turning rigid and correct in his presence as it always did, her eyes avoiding his. It was a habit, a way of defence.

"Apparently not! Led us on a merry chase, you did!" He spoke lightly, but his eyes were fastened on her in shrewd thought. No doubt he was referring to their attempt at a cover up.

"Then I am glad it did not take you too long."

"I am sure you are." Megor tipped his head, and behind him Amariel could see the other Mirkwood elves gathering. Eight in total, many of which she did not recognize, but the ones she did were definitely not supporters of her father.

"So what brings you here?" Megor asked.

"Curunir needed some rest," Amariel said, suddenly very aware of the noldor around them. "He travelled here so he could do so, and even send some letters to his kin across the sea. I joined him."

"Indeed." Megor's expression was impossible to read. "Well," he paused, eyes studying her carefully. "I understand his need. Curunir has lived in that forest longer than any of us and one grows old in Mirkwood. Old and weary. Is that not why there are so few seniors left amongst us? It seems this shadow encroaching upon our land has grown very strong indeed. Or perhaps… some would put it down to mediocre leadership of late."

Finally Amariel met his eyes, keeping his gaze. There were many things she'd expect of Megor, but not this - not publicly expressing discontent with their rule. And the fact that he said it straight to her face proved that he did not see her as a threat at all. She would not have that.

"You go too far, Megor." She said quietly. But he only raised an eyebrow, lips lifting at the corners once more.

"I did not say _I_ thought such!" He exclaimed, looking around them as if the gathered elves would back up his statement. "I repeated only rumours. I myself would never think such thoughts. But it is of no matter. Curunir is here then?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Megor frowned, looking around. "But he is not with you. Where is he, I wonder? I have not seen him since our arrival."

"I do not know."

"He is there," one of Megor's followers said. Amariel followed his gaze to see Curunir come out of one of the buildings, laughing with a blackhaired elf she recognized as Erestor, Elrond's lead councillor. The moment he laid eyes on the newly arrived Mirkwoodelves Curunir's smile died on his face.

"And not very glad to see us," The elf who'd pointed at him commented, earning some chuckles from the others.

"Ah, lady Arwen!" Erestor smiled, completely oblivious to the tense Mirkwoodelves gathered. He headed for the elleth immediately, embracing her and speaking in hushed voices. But Elrond and his twins were watching Curunir as he descended the steps leisurely, expression unreadable. He stopped at Amariel's side, laying an arm around her casually, but protectively. Megor made no response to the gesture.

"Lord Megor," he said formally. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Curunir." Megor tipped his head in greeting. "How are you?"

"As well as is expected. Your arrival is quite unexpected. I hope there is nothing amiss?"

"Nay, nothing you should worry about." Megor's eyes twinkled, as if his words contained some internal joke. "We actually came looking for you. There is a… proposal, I'd like to make to Amariel." Megor turned his eyes on her again and she felt Curunir's arm around her tighten.

"Actually, I had of a mind to speak with Amariel myself. Alone." He looked at the lord pointedly.

"Then I am sure it can wait till after."

"If there is time. Have a good day."

"You too." Of a sudden Megor swooped in, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. When his eyes met hers he was too close for comfort. They flickered down appreciatively.

"You look good today, my princess." Curunir all but dragged her out of there then, saving her from responding to the lord. She lowered her head, letting her hair fall over her face and hide it from the onlookers. There was silence around as they left.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

"That was stupid."

"What would you have me do? Megor was…"

"Leave. You should have excused yourself and left." Curunir paced back and forth in his rooms, a deep crease between his brows. They'd made a beeline there as soon as they exited the crowds, and all the way Curunir had been silent, a dark cloud about him.

"I did not find a way." Amariel leaned against the wall, her gaze flickering to the door.

"You should not have been there in the first place!" Curunir turned to her, and of a sudden she realized there was concern mingled with the frustration on his face. "You put yourself in a very revealing position, child. You gave Megor an opportunity to ask you any question, and what was worse, you did so infront of many noldor, infront of Elrond himself! Considering their behaviour I am assuming that you have not told Elladan yet?"

When Amariel shook her head Curunir sighed, moving to the window.

"And Megor called you princess," he muttered, pressing his fingers to his temples. "Valar, what an unfortunate turn of events." Amariel frowned at that.

"But why should we keep my identity secret from the noldor?" she wondered. "I am to reveal myself to their lord and his family anyway, you said so yourself."

"Aye, the revelation must be made. But it must come from you, Amariel, not some unintended circumstance that reveals you. You are a daughter of Thranduil, showing up uninvited in their realm after a millennium of diplomatic silence, and furthermore you are here to tell them that you bear a child with their son. This is an endeavour fraught with tension and potential danger, and not something to take lightly. It must be done tactfully and respectfully, for unless you reveal yourself to them they might very well think you were there on some ill errand! What will we do then, if they decide to imprison you, or worse, offer an ultimatum to your father?"

"They have no prisons here."

"Aye, but they do not need one to keep you confined." Curunir shook his head. "And they would have ample reason to do so as well. What do you imagine your father would do if, say, Elladan or Elrohir suddenly appeared in his kingdom uninvited and unlooked for, skulking around until their identities were by chance discovered?" Amariel fell silent then, seeing his point. If anything, Thranduil was protective of his people and his family.

"Do you think Elrond knows?" She asked. "Megor called me princess twice, but then he did not adhere to courtesy normally expected when one speaks with a princess."

Curunir let out a breath and turned to her, leaning on the windowsill behind. "I think he suspects something is amiss, but more than that, no. I've spent some time with Glorfindel and Erestor recently, and from their conversation I can only glean a certain degree of wariness. Glorfindel in particular has been wont to ask many questions, which as much as satisfying the noldor's curiosity, tells me that they know very little as of yet. I think they will be quicker to assume that "princess" is an endearment rather than a title. After all, what are the chances of meeting a princess of Mirkwood here?"

Amariel looked at him thoughtfully at that. "Megor too asked many questions," she said. "I cannot fathom how he found us, but I do not think he saw the letter. One of the first things he asked me was why we were here, and I doubt he'd approach me like he did if he knew I was pregnant."

"That is good news." Curunir paused, his eyes flickering out the window once more. The midday sun was shining into their room, showing the green traces in his hazel eyes. "But Megor's arrival is not. Either way I do not think we can stay here for too long. It will look suspicious, and that is the last thing we want." Amariel nodded and bidding him farewell, silently left the room. She knew now that she'd have to meet Elladan and Megor soon, but she would not do so yet. Instead she moved over the street and entered the building housing her own rooms. But just as she'd opened the door and was about to step in, a voice halted her.

"They told me you were staying here, but I could not believe it." She turned and once more Megor was standing there, leaning against the wall. When her gaze turned to him, he stood lazily, moving over and pushing the door until he could see into her rooms. He tutted. "Hardly fitted for the princess of Mirkwood!"

Amariel glanced around quickly to see if anybody had heard his words, but they were alone in the hall. Then she snapped the door shut and turned to him, lowering her voice.

"Don't say that out loud, Megor. I have not told the noldor of my identity."

"You're keeping it a secret?" Megor considered her. "Good girl. That is what Thranduil would want, I'll warrant. But then, I cannot imagine he would want you here at all." He snorted at her expression. "Come now, do not think I will believe that nonsense about joining Curunir. Thranduil would never have let you, and either way, you never showed any particular interest in Imladris, nor its people."

"Why are you here?" Amariel let his statement pass, not commenting on its veracity. What would be the point? She could never pull of a direct lie, and speaking with Megor was like being constantly prodded by a master manipulator. Someway or other he would get the truth out of her, whether she willed it or not.

"Ah, the question at last." He smiled, and then he took her hand, enfolding it in both of his. "I have come to propose to you, my princess." He said. "It has long been on my mind, but I will wait no longer. I would have your hand in marriage, have you to hold and to treasure. Will you give this to me?"

For a while all Amariel could do was stare, stunned. Then she swallowed.

"I… I did not expect this."

"Then t'is a pleasant surprise I imagine." Megor smiled confidently, but Amariel withdrew her hand. Her neck prickled as if they were being watched, and once more her eyes flickered about them.

"I'm not sure, Megor." She said carefully. "I will have to consider your offer before I make my answer. This is after all a very monumental decision to take."

He nodded then leaned in to kiss her cheek. Immediately Amariel's cheeks flamed, but this time mostly in discomfort. He lingered close to her, but even as his smile conveyed warmth, his eyes did not. "Then I will await your answer eagerly, brethil nin." And with that he disappeared out the door.

Amariel took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Then she turned quickly and entered her rooms. She was not so stupid as to think Megor actually loved her, nor that his proposal was made with no ulterior motives. But a marriage to her did not seem to profit him much. He already had a lot of influence, and did not stand to gain much by marrying a mere princess. Both her father and her two older brothers came before her in succession to the throne, making her but the third in line with little to provide them save a title. She dropped into her bed unceremoniously, burying her face in the pillow with a long sigh.

Unbeknownst to her, a lone noldo was standing in the common room outside, mouth slightly open as the conversation she'd overheard was processed. For it was not every day one stumbled right into a proposal.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

When Amariel finally left her room there was no one in the common room. She brushed down her rumpled tunic, heading for the main building in Rivendell. Curunir had said something about staying in the Hall of Fire, so that is where she went. But he was not there. Frowning, she exited the building and headed for the gardens instead, thinking he might be there, but no such luck. There was a small stream passing running through the gardens and so she went to the bridge intent on returning to the courtyard from the other side. That would give her a better view of the area. But the moment she stepped foot on the bridge, she froze, eyes wide in surprise. Ahead Estel was standing, but he was not alone. In his arms stood an elf, her dark hair and lissom form easily recognizable, even from behind. Arwen. As she watched, Aragorn raised his hand to her face in a caress, very different from the one Elladan had given his sister mere hours ago. Arwen took his hand and said something, and they both laughed quietly, their voices the only sound in the silence around. Amariel took a step back, intending to return and find another way. They'd chosen a secluded place, and it was clear she was walking in on a very private encounter. But in her surprise her wits had been scattered and the branch she stepped on made a loud crack in the silence. Immediately the two turned to her, stepping apart from each other quickly.

"I'm sorry" Amariel exclaimed, abashed at her own inattentiveness. A silvan clumsily stepping on a branch like some dwarf? If Legolas ever learned of this, she'd never hear the end of it. "I was just going to… well… what I intended was to… to cross…" She pointed to the bridge they were standing on. Arwen turned to Estel then.

"We will speak of it later," she said softly and he nodded, taking her hand to kiss it.

"Offcourse my lady." Their eyes lingered on each other for just a moment longer than normal, then Arwen swept away, the layers of her dress fluttering in her wake. Estel looked over at Amariel once more, and she felt her blush deepen.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, walking onto the bridge. "I did not mean to interrupt anything." He paused, seemingly considering something. Then his eyes met hers.

"There was nothing to interrupt," he said. He looked a bit wary of her then, and immediately Amariel understood.

"You're right." She said. "I saw nothing." The relief on his face was palpable, and Amariel smiled despite herself. He had kept her pregnancy secret for all others, even those he saw as his brothers and father. It seemed it was time for her to return the favour.

"Thank you." Estel smiled, and she nodded her acquiescence. For a moment there was silence.

"Have you seen Curunir?" Amariel asked, deciding she might as well try asking him.

"Nay." Estel paused. "But he seems to spend a lot of time by the stables, tending that horse of his. Have you checked the courtyard?"

Amariel nodded, frown returning in dismay. "That is what I thought but I did not see him. I think I will return again then, see if I might have missed him." At his nod, she turned and was about to take her leave when he spoke once more.

"You have not told Elladan yet." It was a statement, not a question. Amariel turned to him warily.

"Nay," she said. "I have not."

"What are you waiting for?" When she did not answer he shook his head. "Last I saw him he was near the courtyard as well. He should be right on your way." He looked at her pointedly, the intent behind his words clear. She nodded, then quickly left, crossing the bridge and heading back through the thin vegetation. Several elves were there, their song reaching her from the trees as she passed. It reminded her of her arrival in Rivendell just a week past, when a couple of familiar faces came into view. Just as Estel had predicted, Elladan was standing there right in her way, but he was not alone. With him was a blackhaired elleth Amariel only recognized as she came closer: Melwanis, a member of the group she'd overheard the day before the patrol's arrival. She was smiling and laughing with Elladan, standing far too close for common contact, her face raised towards his in mirth. Amariel paused and stared. Then, when she placed a hand lightly on his arm as well, she forced her gaze away and continued, staring straight ahead. Any thought she had of telling him of the child today was definitely gone now.

"Amariel!" She looked up to see Elladan's mirror image smiling back at her. "I did not look to see you here. Where have you been?"

"With Curunir." She took a step to the side, eager to get out of there, but Elrohir stopped her once more, placing himself back in her way.

"What has got you in such a hurry?" She paused for a moment, and inadvertently, her gaze flickered back to the pair speaking to their left. Melwanis was leaning into him now, her silky black tresses falling over his arm as she smiled up at him. Noble, Amariel remembered, of the house of Fingolfin. Standing there next to him, she looked the part. Two comely noldorin nobles, a sight their people could be proud of. Elrohir followed her gaze and immediately the smile slipped of his lips.

"I have to speak with Curunir," she said, somehow feeling embarrassed.

"Amariel, t'is not -"

"Not what? Look, I have to go Elrohir. He is waiting."

"But you were just with him." Elrohir said.

She pushed past him and this time he did not stop her.

"Wait!" She glanced back, seeing Elladan coming for her. Melwanis following just behind, a scowl on her face. "Wait, Amariel. Please." For a second she considered just continuing. Then she stopped, biting her tongue. It would be inappropriate to ignore a son of Elrond.

Elladan caught up to her quickly.

"What have you been up to? You disappeared before I had time to speak with you."

"I was with Curunir," Amariel repeated. He nodded, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere.

"Who was that Megor? Why is he here?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Amariel asked, slightly irritated. Her gaze flickered back to the path, wanting nothing more than to speak with her childhood mentor.

"I did. We all did. But he would only say that he'd come here for you."

"Like I said when they arrived, I don't know how they got here or why." Amariel looked over his shoulder again.

"Let her go, Elladan." Melwanis said, taking one of his hands. "We were having such a good time."

"But we need to know this." Elladan said, not even looking at the elleth. "Nine strangers have just entered our realm with little explanation as to why. We're hospitable, but it is our duty to protect our people." His eyes bored into hers as he spoke, imploring her to share this information with him. "Please, Amariel. You know him, clearly. Will you tell us nothing?" Something in his expression made it seem like this was about more than just Megor's sudden arrival. She paused, then let out a sigh.

"Megor is a lord, son of Maennor, one of Thranduil's closest councillors." She said and immediately his brows slammed down. "They're part of an all sindarin grouping that often band together to have their voices heard when the king makes decisions. Megor himself is a well-known member, and an outspoken lord. He spends his time at the palace, and what he does then, I do not know. I do not see him much."

"You're not close?"

"Nay, we are not." Beside Elladan, Melwanis let out a snort.

"I'd say you are," she said, and something in her tone made Amariel look at her.

"We are not." she repeated.

"It did _seem_ like you were close enough." Amariel felt her brow furrow. The other had sounded mocking, almost derisive. Before she could answer Elladan cut in.

"I am sure you're telling the truth," he said diplomatically, casting Melwanis a quick look. "But then why did he call you "my princess"? That is a strong endearment for someone who don't know each other that well."

"It is," Amariel admitted. "And I do not approve of it. But his words are his and his alone."

Elladan frowned at her, but once more Melwanis cut in, gazing at the silvan mix mistrustfully. "I think there is more to it than that" She said, "and you're not telling him. You're _lying_ to your host. What a base thing to do!"

"I'm telling you the truth." Amariel exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Only parts of it!"

"What, would you have me spill every politic detail of Mirkwood?"

"I do not think you will be overstepping any political bounds in telling this," Melwanis said. When Amariel did not answer, she smirked. "That is what I thought. Elladan, I have to speak with you."

"Not now, Melwanis," he repeated to her, a slight frown on his face as he studied Amariel.

"But it is important." She tugged at his arm, and he withdrew it in annoyance.

"I am speaking with Amariel now," he said, "I told you it can wait. As soon as we are done here –"

"But there's something she'd not telling you, Elladan!" Melwanis said, "She's lying –"

"There is little more I can tell you without overstepping my bounds to my king." Amariel interrupted. Melwanis sent her a disgusted look, her eyes flickering down Amariel's form.

"As if your king knows or even cares for someone like you."

"Melwanis, enough!" Elladan said sharply. Amariel clenched her fists, finally feeling her irritation with the elleth seep over.

"Need I remind you that diplomatic ties between Mirkwood and Rivendell have been fraught the past, what was it, _thousand_ years?" She asked coldly.

"Perhaps you should have remembered that fact before you came here, _woodelf_." Melwanis spat.

A moment passed, then Amariel spun on her heel and headed down the path. It was better she leave, lest she say something stupid and revealing. Behind her there was a quick quarrel, then she heard footsteps following. She made it a good ways down the path before Elladan caught up with her.

"I'm sorry about that." He said, "Melwanis is not usually like this,"

" _Oh_ , _really_?"

"Nay, she has always had a forward tongue but this…? She is not usually like this, this is not how she is underneath. Indeed, she is really the sweetest, funniest -"

"Yes, she's just enchanting, isn't she?" Elladan paused, surprised at her acid tone.

"That's not what I meant."

"Sure you did, which is perfectly fine. We're all allowed to have special feelings for our little sweethearts." His silence spoke of his surprise, and Amariel raised one hand, making a small fluttering movement. "Go ahead! Run back to your little beloved. I am sure she has many interesting things to share with you." Amariel trained her eyes ahead, determined not to look at him. And for a while they walked in silence, him matching her swift pace easily.

"Ah, the truth will out." He said atlast. "You're jealous." Immediately her eyes flickered to him, then she forced them back on the path.

"I am not. I am merely stating my observations."

"Are you? I don't seem to remember calling her my sweetheart."

"Well, she is, clearly."

"As Megor is yours, clearly." She shook her head in exasperation.

"T'is not the same. I hold no love for Megor." They finally reached the last of the scant vegetation, the wide, sloping hill that lead down to the courtyard slowly opening before them. "You love Melwanis."

"Aye, I do love her." At his admission, her head turned sharply to him, and he used the chance grab her by her forearms and push her against a tree, stopping their movement. "Wait for just for a moment and let me explain, Amariel," he said. When she made no move to get out of his grip, he lowered his hands, and took a breath, his eyes flickering over her face.

"I do love Melwanis but not as you think. We were born around the same time, and so I've known her since we were both elflings, playing together in the sun. I love her as I love Arwen, as a brother loves his sister and a friend loves his companion. Nothing more."

"You were raised together?" Amariel repeated, eyes lingering on his uncertainly.

"Aye, and we've known each other through both thick and thin. But my feelings for her are purely platonic."

"And you are sure about that?" The question slipped her before she could stop herself, and a second later her face flushed. Elladan smiled, eyes glinting.

"Aye," he said, lifting a hand to her cheek. "If that were to ever change, you'd be the first to know." For a moment her eyes lingered on his, and she felt a slow smile on her lips. Then movement behind him caught her attention and she looked over to see several noldor passing over the field, eying them curiously. She coughed, sidestepping him and putting an acceptable distance between them.

"I should get going," she murmured, and he gave a small nod. No sooner had he done than Melwanis appeared once more, a scowl on her face. Elrohir appeared behind her, an apologetic look on his face.

"It can't wait." Melwanis snapped, heading straight for Elladan. "You need to hear this."

"Hear what?"

"She's lying." Melwanis started again. "Earlier this morn, I saw…"

There was a racket down by the stables. They all turned in wonder, looking down the slope to the courtyard as several younger elves ran out of the stables, several looking panicked.

"What's happening?" Elladan asked one of the noldor rushing by, looking for equipment. He paused for just a moment. "It's one of the horses," he panted. "A palomino one. It suddenly went mad. It's breaking down it's door!"

"What?" The noldo tried move on, but Elladan kept his grip firm, forcing the other to stop once more. "How come? What happened?"

At that moment there was a loud whinny from inside the stable, and with a jolt Amariel recognized it. It was Talhim. Stepping forward, she scanned the courtyard beneath quickly, when she saw him. Curunir was standing on the pavilion outside the main building of Rivendell, his stance wary, staring at the stables. A moment later he was sprinting, taking the stairs two at a time and crossing into the courtyard, heading straight for the racket.

"No…"

Out of the stable burst several elves, and amongst them, a human. There was another crash and then Talhim jumped out after them, eyes wide and terrified, feet cut and bleeding. There were several shouts as the noldor moved to block all entrances to the city. Talhim reared and snorted, and people scattered before him.

"Daro," came Curunir's voice, clear and calm. He'd entered the open area, and was now approaching the horse carefully. "Dad, Talhim!" The horse seemed to hear him through the racket. It paused, ears turning, and turned to Curunir. "There you go, my boy…" Curunir raised both hands, taking a step nearer in order to keep Talhim's attention. The horse bucked a little and snorted, but it seemed to recognize him. It's ears moved, from Curunir to the people still fleeing, then back once more.

"There there. Sedho Talhim…" Curunir said calmly. He took another step nearer, and the horse's attention was bent on him. "Sedho, mellon nin." Then everything seemed to go wrong.

There was a crash as the panicking human tripped over some equipment. The horse jumped in surprise, turning it's frightened focus on him. Then it stilled, head lowering.

Amariel saw it coming a moment before it happened. Talhim pawed the ground, eyes filled with madness, then he charged. There was no time to react. The man stared, horrified, as the horse attacked him, one hoof headed straight for his head. Then he was pushed aside. A loud crack followed, and Curunir was thrown backwards. His body hit the ground hard, rolling a couple of times over the stonepaved ground. Then he stilled.

"Curunir!" Without realizing it, Amariel was running at full speed down the hill. Behind her there was a shout, and she could hear Melwanis' voice mingled with that of Elladan and Elrohir, but she ignored them. The human had scrambled to his feet, but just as he was about to flee, hesitated, looking over at Curunir. Talhim, who'd retreated after the first attack, was eying him still. Immediately, Amariel's heart sank, new adrenaline shooting through her.

"No!" She shouted, altering her course so she could push the man away. With him there, there was no way the horse would calm down. "Leave!" The man stared at her in shock, his mouth moving soundlessly. Behind her Talhim snorted. "Go! Get out of here!" Spinning on his heel, the he took of and Amariel turned to the horse. It was pawing the ground, eyes fixed on the human. She had no doubt the horse would attack at any moment… and Curunir was lying directly in its way.

"Daro Talhim! Daro!" With no time to think, Amariel moved infront of the prone elf and spread her arms, making herself as big a hindrance as possible. Her voice caught the attention of the horse, and for just a moment it's focus lingered on her and not the man. "Na-sidh, Talhim." She said loudly, clearly, repeating what Curunir had done. When the horse's ears flickered from her once more she moved forward, catching his attention once more, all along speaking sweet words. Talhim stared at her, eyes wide, but she could tell only parts of it's attention was on her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the human disappear behind several noldor. Daring another step towards the horse, she forced his attention back towards her.

"Sedho, mellon nin, na-sidh…" she murmured repeatedly, and finally, with the human gone, Talhim quieted. Slowly his head hung, his feet shaking where he stood. He was bleeding, she noticed, but that was not her top priority at the moment. The moment she deemed it safe, Amariel crouched next to Curunir, turning his head to her with the tips of her fingers.

"Curunir! Curunir, can you hear me?" Silence. She laid a hand over his mouth and found to her joy that he was breathing, albeit unsteadily. He'd passed out on the gravel, one arm at an unnatural angle next to him and a large red spot forming on his clothes right where the horse had kicked him. It was spreading quickly. "Help!" Amariel shouted, her fingers moving lightly above the wound, fearing to do anything. "He needs help!"

Suddenly Elladan appeared at her side, face grim. Pushing her hands away, he deftly checked Curunir's eyes, then got out a knife and cut away the fabric above the wound. Curunir's shoulder came into view, a large, ugly bruise forming on his upper arm where he'd been hit. In the middle there was a wound bleeding profusely, and through it she could see the bone of her mentor, severed and misplaced.

"Valar," Amariel gasped, one hand covering her mouth. She remembered seeing similar wounds on Mirkwood warriors, and it never boded well. But Curunir could not fall like this. Not here, not now.

"Get my father!" Elladan shouted, and Amariel realized there were many elves gathering. They scuttled away at the order, and Elrohir dropped to his knees next to them. Talhim was nowhere to be seen, nor the human.

She watched in silence as the brothers tended to Curunir, as best as they could. He did not react to their touches, but she thought that was just as well. Curunir would be in a lot of pain when he woke up. Then there was a commotion, and Elrond strode to them, followed closely by several healers. He took Amariel's place, studying Curunir quickly and hearing the reports of his sons. Then he gave orders for him to be taken to the healing rooms immediately. Many elves helped then, and soon Curunir was carried away. Amariel following quietly in their wake, forgotten for the moment.

They walked up the winding paths of Rivendell, then entered the large building she'd been told was house to the healingrooms. Inside there was a large, open aired room with many shelves filled with books and vials alike. Many elves were bustling about, and through several open doors she could see many smaller chambers with large beds and a window showing the gardens outside. They hurried past it all, and soon the small group entered a mediumsized room, it's walls lined with shelves on which there was a broad assortment of things, everything from vials and dried herbs to books and many empty bowls and pots. At one side there was an inbuilt fireplace, a pot containing some mystery liquid already boiling over it. It filled the room with a sweet fragrance, somehow making the air seem clearer, cleaner. Curunir was lain down carefully on the raised table in the middle of the room, and the healers immediately set to work, picking out equipment from the shelves and boiling new water over the fire. Amariel watched in a daze, until finally Elrond's eyes landed on her. He said something to the twins, who went to her side.

"Come," they said, taking her hands and pulling her out of the room. "Only healers are allowed while they are operating." They led her back to the large room where she was made to sit in one of the chairs lining the hall.

"How long will it take?" Amariel asked, eyes going back to the door of the operating room anxiously.

"We do not know." The twins sat themselves next to her, one on each side. "It might take hours."

"Hours?!" Amariel exclaimed.

"They'll need to reset the bone in his arm" the younger twin said, "which might take some time. But do not worry. The cut was clean and Elrond is a very skilled healer. I have no doubt your general will heal."

"Are you sure?" Amariel asked doubtfully. In her worry, every small danger seemed to loom large.

"Are you doubting our lord father's capabilities?" Elladan teased her lightly. When Amariel still looked uncertain, he took her hand and kissed it, then covered it with both of his own. "It will be alright, Amariel." He murmured reassuringly. "Like my brother I have no doubt Curunir will be healed. Adar will come when it is done and you may visit him." Amariel met his eyes uncertainly.

"Truly?"

"Truly." He smiled a little, squeezing her hand. Then there was a silence. Amariel sighed.

"Then I expect I shall be waiting here for a long time." She said tiredly. Elladan studied her.

"Aye," he said. "It will be a long wait." When neither of the twins made any move she looked between them questioningly.

"Are you staying?"

"Does it look like we're about to leave?" Elrohir asked, a slight smile on his lips. He'd wriggled back in his chair, throwing one foot over the one next to them and leaning his head back on the armrest.

"You do not have to wait with me." Amariel felt ill at ease given their sudden supportiveness. But Elrohir smiled.

"We know." He said simply.

"Yet we're staying as long as you are." Elladan continued. Amariel nodded in acceptance, making no further comment. Inside however, she was very thankful to the twins for their support. It would have been a lot worse, left all alone to her worries.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Author's note:

All right, another chapter up. I managed to bridge the gap to a scene I've written long ago, so it came out quicker than usual. Either way, thank you reading and thanks for the reviews! I'll respond to them as soon as I'm able tomorrow!

Translations:

 _Brethil nin_ – my princess(queens-daughter)

 _Daro_ – stop/halt!

 _Sedho_ – calm/peaceful

 _Da*d_ – Calm yourself

 _Na-sidh_ – Be peaceful

 _Mellon nin_ – my friend


	9. Chapter 8: The Meadow

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 8: The Meadow**

It was nearing evening when Elrond finally exited the chambers, wiping his hands on a cloth. He paused as his eyes landed on the three elves waiting in the hall. Amariel raised her head, surprised to find that she'd lapsed into a near slumber on Elladan's shoulder, her hand still in his. At her other side, Elrohir was sleeping, and the soft light of evening filtered in through the windows.

"Curunir has woken," Elrond said quietly so as to not wake Elrohir. "He has been moved to a chamber nearby."

Amariel nodded and stood, feeling Elladan follow behind. "How is he?" She asked as they headed to Curunir's new room.

"He is well. The bone is in a good position and his arm has been set in a brace. He was lucky – apart from the arm where he was hit, there were no major inflictions. Infact there was nothing except for some bruising, which will heal itself with time, though I expect he will be in a great deal of pain, and not a little sore." As he spoke, Elrond led them out into the herb-gardens joined to the healingwards. Around them, the soft scent of many different herbs filled the air, creating a nice and quiet atmosphere. He paused, turning to Amariel. "But Curunir will heal, given time." She nodded quietly and Elrond opened a door and stood aside to let them in. Inside, Curunir was lying on a large bed, accepting a steaming cup with his good arm. He gave a small smile to the fair lady handing it to him, thanking her quietly. She smiled back, then looked over at the newcomers.

"This is an infusion of valerian," she said softly. "It will ease the pain and induce a deep sleep." Her eyes returned to Curunir. "You should not wait too long in taking it," she said, and there was a lightly admonishing tone that spoke of a previous disagreement on the matter.

"I will not, my lady." Curunir said but she did not look entirely convinced. Amariel however, could not help a smile forming on her lips.

"Curunir, you are alright!" she exclaimed softly, drawing his attention to her.

He smiled, handing the lady his cup and beckoning Amariel closer. She took his good hand in both of hers, dropping to her knees at his side. "What did you expect?" He jested lightly. "It takes more than just the kick of a horse to bring me down. I hope you have not worried yourself overly much about me." Amariel smiled, feeling moisture in her eyes.

"You know me too well," she murmured. "But you need not worry. The twins were kind enough to keep me company while I waited. Though I fear Elrohir fell asleep." Curunir looked behind her, and finally he seemed to notice Elladan standing to the back of the room with his father, giving them some privacy.

"That was very kind of them." He paused, a shadow of worry returning to his eyes as he gazed upon Amariel. "What of Talhim? Do you know what happened to him?" At that Amariel paused, unsure, but she was saved having to answer by Elladan, who spoke up.

"He was taken away by one of the stablehands," he said. "They've washed him and tended his wounds. I imagine he will be staying at the smaller stables for a while, that he might recover in peace. He looked very frightened." Curunir nodded slowly, sadly.

"I'm glad to hear it. He shall need some rest after the fright he's been through." Then he sighed. "I only wish I could visit him. It would do him well to see a familiar face."

"I will visit him," Amariel assured the elf, earning a soft smile.

"Thank you, my child." Then he glanced over her shoulder. "I fear there is little I can do to repay the kindness and hospitality you have shown me and my kin," he said, addressing the two noldor at the back. "But you have my gratitude, and if there is any way in which I could repay you when I am better, I will."

They bowed. "There is nothing to thank us for," Elrond said kindly. "It is but our duty to help any in need, and a privilege to be able to do so." Curunir nodded, eyes lingering on them for a moment longer before they returned to Amariel. Now there was another question in their depths, one he could not speak aloud. Have you told them?

"Not yet." Amariel murmured, her voice dropping. She could not find a way to broach the subject of her child, nor find the courage to admit her heritage. Somehow she knew that the revelations would be a turning point in both her relations to the twins and Estel, and even to her very stay at Rivendell, but she did not know whether it would be for the better. Somehow, even after so short a time, she did not want to loose what she had gained. Curunir frowned.

"That is ill news indeed," he said, looking at her thoughtfully. "I sense that the longer you wait, the harder it will become. Yet it is your decision to make, for better or for worse." Amariel dipped her head, eyes returning to the floor in worry. Then a hand touched her cheek, and she looked back up at her childhood friend and teacher. Pushing her worries aside, she smiled for him, taking the hand.

"Get better, mellon nin." She murmured, placing a light kiss on his cheek. He smiled in return.

"I will."

She stood, and immediately the lady returned, cup in hand. Curunir accepted it once more, drinking the contents quietly then settling to rest. Someone touched her shoulder, and she startled, looking up in surprise to see Elrond's wise features. He nodded to the door, then followed her and his son back out so the former general could have some peace. Outside the sun was dimming, nearing the mountains in the distance.

"I think you should get some rest as well, Amariel." Elrond said once outside, turning to her. "No doubt it has been a long and trying day." But she shook her head, eyes straying in the direction of the stables.

"I think I would rather visit Talhim first," she said. She felt bad that she had not done so sooner, or even thought about doing so before Curunir brought it up. Elrond looked at her for a moment, then turned his gaze to the sinking sun.

"The stables will soon lock for the night." He said. "If you are to check on Talhim ere they close their doors, I suggest you do so now." She nodded, but frowned, wondering where the extra stables might be. Then felt Elladan place a hand on her back.

"Come," He said softly, "I'll show you the way." She smiled at him thankfully, then felt her eyes stray back to Elrond. He was watching the pair, and as always his enigmatic eyes were hard to read. If he disapproved of something, she had no doubt that she would never know.

"Thank you again, my lord." She said humbly, bowing her head. "I cannot tell you how much I appreciate what you've done. Without Curunir…" She trailed of, and his eyes softened. Laying a supportive hand on her shoulder, Elrond smiled kindly.

"I am glad I could be of help," he said. "And Curunir will heal. You must simply give him time to do so."

"How long?" Amariel could not help asking.

"Until he is back on his feet? A day or so. But he should not be doing any demanding activities, nor anything that would require the use of his hand for another week or two." His eyes lingered on her for just a second longer. "He certainly should not ride." Amariel only kept his gaze for a moment before letting her own drop. The message behind that one was clear. They would not be able to leave anytime soon. She wondered for a moment how long it would take till her own father knew of her disappearance. It might not be too long, especially considering that Megor had also suddenly left their realm as well.

"We will stay until he is healed," she said quietly. Elrond nodded, and then Elladan led her through the city, guiding her easily through the small maze. Soon they reached a small building nearly invisible to the city due to a thin grove of trees. Inside, Talhim was resting in one of the stables. The knees of his front legs had been bound and the stable carried an odd scent, as if some medicament had been recently fed to the horses. Nevertheless his head raised, ears perking up at the sight of the two elves.

"Hey, sweet." Amariel murmured, scratching his forehead through the window of his stall. The horse grunted, turning it's head so she could reach it better.

"Ah, my lord." She turned to see a stablehand just entering, brush in hand. He looked at Elladan uncertainly, eyes flickering to Amariel then back. "We were just intending to brush this one off, then close for the night."

Elladan nodded, taking the brush from him. "Consider it done," he said. "We'll take care of it." The stable hand hesitated, then nodded, exiting the building. Then, just as Amariel had led Talhim out into the hall, he reappeared with another brush.

"For the lady," he murmured, stretching it out to her uncertainly, his eyes riveted on the ground. Amariel accepted the brush, but let her land linger for a moment at the taking, making the stablehand look at her. She smiled.

"Thank you." She said, meaning it. Immediately his face flushed, turning a deep shade of red. He stammered out an answer, then disappeared out of the room, barely managing another bow to Elladan. Amariel was looking after him curiously, when Elladan laughed.

"I did not mean to frighten him," she said, turning back to the horse and letting the brush slide over Talhim's pale coat.

"Nay, I am sure you did not." Elladan's eyes twinkled on Talhim's other side as he worked out a spot of grime. "But I imagine t'is not everyday a beautiful elleth smiles to him." Amariel's eyes snapped to him, and immediately she felt the tiniest warmth in her cheeks.

"Nor everyday he meets royalty," she countered, looking at him pointedly. Elladan frowned.

"We are not royalty."

"Nay, not in title." Talhim's coat grew steadily lighter, the palomino markings glistening as light hit it. "But you are by blood, descended from several royal lines even. That your father declined kingship does not erase that fact." Elladan looked thoughtful.

"Is that how we are viewed in Mirkwood?" He asked at length. "As royalty?"

"As the little princelings of the noldor? Aye." The corners of his lips lifted at that.

"Leave it to the Mirkwoodelves to negate the value any titles given us hold." He said with a soft laugh. Amariel smiled, her face a mix of mischief and abashment. Then it slipped off her face as she remembered the noldor she'd overheard speaking ill of her family. Perhaps this was a good a chance as any to test the waters.

"And how do you view us?" She asked. When he looked at her questioningly she continued. "Mirkwood, and it's royalty? I overheard some elves speaking of our king several days ago…" She did not continue, but something in her expression must have given it away.

"And they spoke ill of them." Elladan finished. For a while he seemed to consider his next words. Then he sighed. "Our peoples have not had much contact in a long time, dating back even to the last alliance in the first age."

"When Mirkwood lost two thirds of its army." Amariel remembered that story all too well. It was very much embedded in their realm's memory, a large open sore that still hurt for some, centuries after the fact. Elladan nodded sadly.

"A great loss by any standards. Coupled with the death of their king it hit even harder. What I know is that King Thranduil blamed our father and Gil Galad, for they did not come when Oropher peremptorily charged into battle, lightly armoured, even less supported. Nor did they aid when his army was surrounded, when the slaughter began." Elladan looked at the pale coat darkly.

"Why?" Amariel asked. It was a question she'd been burning to ask any noldor for a long time. "Thousands of lives were lost that day. Why did the noldor not save their allies? Yes, the charge was stupid and reckless, and in hindsight catastrophic – but it was an attempt to help you, their allies. The noldor might have lessened the losses if they helped. The Mirkwood forces were weakly armoured, clad in leather wear fit for forests, not war on open fields. The noldor were better armoured and perhaps even better fit open war overall. The losses could have been smaller. Why did they not come to the aid of those who came to theirs?"

Elladan shook his head. "That I cannot answer." At her frown, he continued. "You make it sound so simple, and yet it never is. I truly do not know too much about that part of our history. My father barely speaks of the wars of the past. "Fruitless victories", he'd say, "and countless defeats." But what I do know is that the dislike between our peoples goes back even further than that, that there was tension between the noldor and the teleri descendants even before the war, which played itself out even in the higher levels of the warcommand. That last battle only cemented a rift that was already present." Amariel frowned. She knew the kinslayings of old were the earliest startingpoints of this divide between their peoples, but her father would not carry an inherited grudge for as long as he did, not one so old. He was perhaps rigid, but that was simply beyond even him. She felt like there was more to the story than that.

"Do you think it could ever get better?" She asked at last. "That relations could ever improve?" Elladan sighed.

"It has been this way for a long time." At her silence he looked over at her, seeing her downfallen expression.

"There is no way to force a new perception upon a whole race, nor can such changes truly be hastened. But what does it matter? What truly matters is the opinion of each and every one of us, and I for one respect the sindar, silvan and avarin peoples. I know the names and stereotypes we assign others hide a myriad of differences behind them, and I know value is not well measured if it is given according to race, or even title. I would have you see that." Amariel paused, her eyes lingering on him. He looked sincere, so much so that for a moment she wanted to just lay out everything. She wanted to take his word and tell him her true name and title, hear him affirm his promises and tell her it meant nothing, that it would not bother him. But then she lowered her gaze. Most likely he thinks you might be a commoner, that small, dark voice told her. It is easier to love a commoner than an enemy.

"But race is visible," she said at last. "And it is there. Titles and race shows in how we dress, how we act, and even in the colour and shape of our bodies." There was a pause, and after a prolonged silence she looked up at him. He was studying her, a strange expression that she could not place on his face.

"Aye, we do look different and act different. And a good thing it is too, or I would never have met a beautiful, brunette elleth wandering alone at night in a dangerous forest." His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer as her blush returned once more, then his face split up in a mischievous grin. "I always did find the silvans of Lothlorien quite attractive. Pity there are so few in Rivendell."

"Lothlorien?" Amariel repeated. "Where you watching my race there?"

"I couldn't very well just coast into Mirkwood could I?" He laughed as she pushed him lightly. Then her own smile faded.

"And yet you did, in the end." Which had led into her pregnancy and the situation she was in now. The brush suddenly seemed immensely heavy in her hands as she worked on the last mark. Meanwhile, she could feel his eyes on her.

"Adar was right," he said. "You really do need rest." Amariel sighed, pulling the brush slowly over Talhim's coat, the last spot gone.

"Rest?" She repeated, with a breath of laughter. "I fear I will not get any, even should I lay down on my bed at this moment. I am too worried, my mind has too many things to think about." Elladan placed a hand over hers, taking the brush from her.

"Then I know what we might do."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

"What is this place?"

Her voice, though low, seemed to carry over the meadow Elladan had taken her to, where thousands of different flowers flickered softly in the moonlight.

"A place of respite." Elladan answered. "Our family used to come here when Elrohir and I were younger. T'is the furthest we can go and still remain within the protection of our home."

Amariel merely nodded, sliding of her horse and looking around. Nearby, the river that flowed through the city could be heard, gurgling noises penetrating the thin layer of trees separating them from it. On the other side of the meadow, a path led through the trees, away from where they'd come. She tried following it with her gaze, but the trees blocked her sight, and when she looked upwards she could only see the trees covering the valleyside a bit further away. The slope was softer here than the place from whence she'd come.

"Where does that lead?" Amariel asked, hearing Elladan dismount from his horse behind her.

"Up, and out. T'is another exit, but we do not use it as often."

Nodding, she turned away, taking in the meadow instead. Thousands of flowers had sprung about them, some large, others small, any color she could imagine. She bent down, her fingers brushing lightly across the thick petals of one completely white, with only a small gold dusting inside.

"An almarië," Elladan said. She glanced up to see him watching her quietly. "It's beautiful." Amariel looked back at the small flower, hearing very light footsteps as Elladan neared.

"Beautiful, and cleansing. It was used alongside athelas in the operating room."

Amariel nodded, letting her finger now glide over the midst of the flower. It came away spattered with golden pollen. "almarië," she repeated, memorizing it.

"Do you not have these in Mirkwood?" Elladan asked.

"Nay. Infact most of these are unknown to me." She let her eyes travel over the meadow, taking in the unknown flora. Elladan looked thoughtful. Then he bent, picking up a small red flower.

"This is carnindil. It helps heal insect bites and the like." He gave it to her, letting her study it closer. "And this," he picked up another, a large, bellformed purple flower with deep green leaves. "is mirefarnë. If one presses it's leaves, the juice that comes out will ease any pain. And then there is this one," Elladan picked up a thin and long, deep blue flower, its reflective qualities making the flower look wet in the moonlight. "Mornaluin. This is good for pranks, or if one wishes silence. A bite of it and the voice is incapacitated for a while. Elrohir and I sometimes pretended to have eaten these by accident if we knew we had to explain ourselves for some misdeed." He wrinkled his nose. "But it tastes awfull." Amariel giggled, listening as he picked up several more flowers, explaining their purposes in medicine and handing them all to her in turn. Soon she had a small bouquet of fair flowers, each with their own purpose.

"You know many of these," she commented, as he'd just finished explaining the dulling effect of the stem of a dark green flower. Elladan handed it to her.

"Our father is wise in herbal lore, and he made it his duty to teach us much about them. We believe any warrior should have knowledge of the healing aspects of plants and nature readily available to them."

"That sounds wise." Amariel said quietly. "In Mirkwood it used to be a large aspect of training. But with the recent sickness drawing over the land, healing herbs have become few and far between. We carry dried ones instead."

"Like the ones you offered me?" Elladan asked. He watched her, then looked around them carefully.

"Aye." Elladans eyes centered on something, and he bent to pick up another flower. This time in his hand lay a pale flower, and there was an enchanting quality about it. Full, drop shaped petals formed a blue circle around its center, and at the border of each petal it was white. The very center had a spatter of silver dust, similar to the golden one of almarië. "This is a neluinë." Elladan said quietly.

"And what healing properties does it have?"

Elladan laughed softly. "A neluinë? None. In noldorin lore t'is said that it's ancestor grew by the lake the first elves woke by, and was so well loved that the elves carried it with them and planted it in all the new lands they moved to. So if you see one, it means elves once lived there, and might still." He gave her the plant, and she studied it closely, taking in the subtle changes in hue. "I always loved finding these on my journeys, and we did, quite often. Even far south and east."

"And elves?"

"None. It seems the avarin elves are hard to find." At that Amariel's eyes flickered from the flower to the skin of her hand holding it, where that slight avarin tint was visible even in the moonlight. Thinking of her own relatives, she did not find his admission surprising. She turned the flower in her hands again, and for a moment the lighter petals flickered with an almost luminescent color.

"T'is beautiful." She breathed.

"Aye. Truly beautiful." When she looked up at him, he was looking straight at her. He smiled, lightly taking it from her. "T'is my favorite."

Reaching up carefully, he placed it in her hair, right above her ear. Amariel barely breathed as his hand lingered by her cheek, the caress feather light. Then, she let out an unintentional sigh, her gaze dropping to the boquet in her hands.

"They are all beautiful." She said quietly, studying the different vibrant colours. Colours that did not exist anymore in large parts of Mirkwood. "They remind me of my home… or atleast my home as it used to be." For a moment he said nothing, then she felt his hand on hers, inviting her to sit on the blanket he'd brought. Too tired to argue, she sat, feeling him settle beside her.

"I cannot imagine how it must have been for your people." He said at last. "Watching the land they loved so dearly fall into darkness and disrepair."

"It is only sick." Amariel said quietly. "Mirkwood… Valar, it should not even have that name. The forest is still alive, and if parts of it has turned malevolent it is only in response to the pain it is in. We would ease that pain, if we could." Elladan looked at her thoughtfully then, a slight crease on his brow.

"But that pain stems from a powerfull enemy you might not be able to defeat." He said carefully. "What of your people? There are other places you could go, other forests less dangerous… How can you stay with something so… broken?"

At that Amariel's gaze flickering from the meadow to the noldo beside her. He was watching her intently, and suddenly she got the sense that they were not talking about her forest anymore. She paused, weighing her words carefully.

"Aye, the pain manifests in evil," she said at last. "But that evil does not mean there is nothing left. There is still beauty there, even now, and it is worth protecting, nursing, all that is left. One day we will make it whole again." She met his eyes, trying to make him understand the determination of her people, the love and stubbornness that made them all cling to their ancestral home, though others might deem it stupid. "We love our forest, the trees and the life within. And we do not abandon what we love."

"Spoken like a true forest elf." Elladan said quietly, after another long pause. "An elf in love with arda and all the fruits of Yavanna. And I am sure your work will be well rewarded one day." Then he broke eyecontact, his eyes turning to the sky.

"But this is what noldor love the best." Elladan leaned back. "Look up."

Amariel did, and stilled her eyes widening. Above her thousands upon thousands of stars lit up the sky, glittering like a million precious gems. They filled the massive void, shining with a clarity and purity she'd never seen before, nor even the like of in millennia. She leaned back, her mouth slightly ajar, and for a while she had no words.

"Have you never seen the stars before?" She looked over to see him watching her quietly, his dark hair and silver eyes somehow mirroring the dark void and stars above.

"I have," she said. "But never like this. Atleast not in a very long time. Mirkwood has grown dense these past centuries." Her lips tipped down at the thought.

"But you must have been outside of Mirkwood other than just this year?" Elladan sounded disbelieving, and she shook her head quietly.

"I've spent my whole life underneath the trees of my forest, Elladan."

He stared at her for a moment. "How old are you?" He asked.

"I was born in the year 431 in the third age." Amariel said, and Elladan shook his head, studying her in slight disbelief.

"How come then?" he said. "2500 years is a long time to spend confined within a single forest."

"It is. In the beginning I wanted to leave. I wanted to experience the world, but I was not allowed. My father said it was too dangerous. He kept me confined, promising me that I could travel when I had grown old enough, and proven my ability to defend myself. Then the darkness grew and with it…" She paused, looking over the meadow. "I became afraid of leaving. Mirkwood was safe, however contradictory that might sound."

"It is not contradictory." She looked at him questioningly, and Elladan paused, weighing his words. "You feared humans." At that she turned away once more, listening to the quiet gurgle of water nearby.

"Did Estel tell you?" She asked at last.

"I spoke with him, aye. But I did not need to hear him confirm it. I've seen it in you." At her expression, he shook his head. "I noticed your reaction whenever humans were brought up in our talk, saw your flickering gaze whenever Estel was near. Then Talhim panicked and his source of fear was that human. You chased him away, and immediately the horse calmed. It led me to believe that there've been evil humans living near Mirkwood that have plagued your forest. They hurt Talhim…. they hurt you."

Amariel looked down, not sure how to respond to that when he continued, his voice strained.

"Amariel… I would like to know. Does my mixed heritage bother you?"

For the longest time Amariel was silent, looking at him. Then she shook her head at last.

"For a while." She admitted. "But I do not think it does anymore."

He searched her expression, then bowed his head, looking up at her warily.

"I would not have you fear me, Amariel." He frowned, his brow creasing. "I could never do anything to hurt you." He looked almost frustrated, or perhaps worried at the thought, his gaze trailing from her and back to the sky. She remained quiet at that, her thoughts suddenly returning to her own heritage.

"But you don't know me." His eyes returned to her, and she shook her head, many opposing feelings warring inside. "I never did tell you who I was. If you knew… Perhaps you would not be this open."

"That is why you have not shared your full name." She bowed her head, knowing he did not need an answer. He could easily guess her reasons.

"I know you." Elladan corrected at last, a conflict in his eyes that reflected her own. "And somehow, I know… I trust you to tell me the truth, and to keep your word. Will you swear to tell me the truth?"

She met his gaze, knowing the decision was already made. She nodded.

"Are you a threat? Here and now, does your hidden identity enable you to hide ulterior motives to harm our realm or our people?" His gaze flickered over her, and she kept eyecontact.

"No. I mean no harm"

The silence was deafening, until he nodded, releasing her from his gaze. She slumped, eyes flickering down to the grass.

"So you are hiding your identity for other reasons, likely to do with name and position." He paused. "May I continue?" She nodded. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Aye, I have two brothers."

"Are they young?"

"Nay, they're both older than me."

"What of your mother?"

At that Amariel fell silent for the longest time, her jaw clenching. She met Elladan's eyes for a moment, and something must have been visible in her own, for his darkened. She looked down immediately, trying to hide her face with her loose hair, but a moment later his hand ghosted over her temple, pushing her hair behind her ear and compelling her to look at him. He kept her gaze for a moment, his silver eyes piercing.

"I'm sorry I brought it up." He said

"She's at peace now. Far away in Aman." Amariel forced her gaze to the trees in the distance. It was a fact she kept reminding herself of whenever she felt guilty. After all, it was here the monsters walked; her nana was safe now.

The thought did not help much.

"And yet it hurts that she's not here." Amariel gritted her teeth.

"You don't know what happened."

"Nay, I don't. Not unless you will tell me."

"I won't." She glanced up at him defensively.

"That is your choice to make." There was a slight pause, but she sensed he might say something. She raised a hand quickly, hurt turning to frustration.

"Don't! Just - don't. You don't understand Elladan. You can't understand, just like every other elf that tries to make me talk about it. You weren't there." When a slight crease appeared on his brow, she shook her head emphatically. "Noone else was there, and no one can "Imagine how it feels". I've heard that so many times already, the sentence holds no value. You don't know, none of you noldor do, for you live here, in this small, enchanted and protected place where you can move about anywhere, at any time, without any weapons. And it is wonderful, and it gladdens my heart to see it, but then you cannot see what we see, feel what we feel every day. You do not have to suffer. You are protected from the vileness of the world. And you do not know what it feels like…"

"to loose someone close to you?" Elladan finished, his voice low. He let out a short humorless laugh. "If only." He said darkly. He glanced at her, before turning to the stars once more with an air of finality. "Don't presume to tell me what I know or don't know, Amariel."

Amariel felt her mouth drop open, but Elladan said no more, only leaned back, his eyes dark and far away.

"I'm sorry." She said at last, when the silence became unbearable. Elladan barely glanced at her.

"For what?"

"My words. You tried to be kind and I returned nothing to you. My feelings got the better of me and I spoke out of turn. You're right. I am just a stranger in a new land. I don't know what you've gone through here these past years, what trials you and your people have faced. And… And I don't truly know you either, just as you don't know me. I cannot know what you've been through." She paused, wondering if he'd say something but he remained quiet. "I just… Don't always cope as well." It was all she could find to say, and she looked down in shame. Then silence filled the clearing, except for the soft gurgle of water. When she looked up, he was looking at her once more.

"Do you truly not know?" He asked, after a pause.

"Nay… My adar and family made sure many stories were kept from me as a child, and then again after the loss of my mother. They didn't think I was ready." He hesitated, then he looked away, letting out a breath.

"Celebrian was abducted by a group of orcs about 400 years ago. Help came too late. By the time she was saved she'd taken a lot of abuse, and was broken beyond anything even Elrond could fix mentally. She left the next year for valinor, and I have not seen her since." His voice was suddenly monotone, and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Why do you apologize? You had nothing to do with it." Amariel hesitated, wondering at his mood.

"That is why you fight so much?" She said carefully, taking another approach. "Your patrol… when I spoke to them they said you're out many times a year, sometimes even for years at a time. You're often the one who initiates a journey, and it's always about fighting orcs, killing them."

"I would rid the world of their foul stain." Elladan said evenly, but Amariel frowned, her eyes snapping to the elf next to her. His pose was relatively relaxed, but there was something she had not heard before in his voice. Despite everything, he almost looked ready to fight.

"Perhaps it would do you good to take a break," She offered. "stay here in Rivendell for a while"

"Why would I do that?"

"You'd rest, relax… Try to be at peace, at least for a little while."

Elladan let out a harsh laugh. "Peace? What peace?" He glanced at her, his eyes veiled. "There is no peace for me."

"You cannot mean that." Amariel said softly. "What of your family, your friends? You have Elrohir and Arwen and Elrond… They're all here for you. I might not know them that well, but this much I can tell. They'll always be there for you."

"Not always." Amariel frowned.

"Do you doubt their devotion to you?"

"Nay, t'is not that." Elladan looked up at the stars once more. "T'is their devotion to others that makes me wonder. T'is my lack thereof…" His eyebrows creased, making Amariel's frown deepen. Seeing her confusion, Elladan shook his head. "Arwen… She loves Estel."

"She has room in her heart to still love you." Amariel said. At that a slight smile formed on his lips, the ghost of fond laughter.

"Aye, she could love the world if she so willed with room to spare."

"Then what is the problem?" For a moment Elladan studied her, as if judging how much to tell her. Amariel sat closer, keeping eyecontact.

"Elladan, I can tell this is important to you" she said earnestly. "Please. I want to help."

"There is no help to be had in this case. T'is fate." Seeing her look, he let out a breath.

"Have you heard of the choice of the peredhil?" Amariel shook her head slowly. Yet another story withheld from her.

"Once, perhaps, but I cannot remember it." At that Elladan leaned back and looked up at the void above them once more.

"Due to our mixed heritage, we all have a choice – to live and die as mortals or to continue life forever in Valinor, as part of elfkin. My father chose elfkind, while his twin, Elros, chose a human fate, so he could pass away with the humans he so loved, unbound by the limits of this earth – and forever out of reach. Elrond and Elros are now severed from each other by fate itself, a future awaiting any of our line." He looked at her, his eyes incredibly weary.

Her brows creased. "But if you all stayed elven, you could all have the same destiny as your father and mother, and live on with them in Valinor…"

"Aye, we could… If all of us chose that course, and our children did after us. But Arwen cares for Estel, and though I love him with all my heart I fear she does to the point where she would not want to go on without him. Thus, these are her options: to live forever knowing she is separated from the one she truly loved, alone till the end of time… or leave with her loved one, to a destiny unknown."

"And yet if she leaves, Elrond would still stay here." Amariel said, the terrible truth dawning on her.

"Aye, he has made his choice." Elladan nearly looked about to laugh again. "Our family shall forever be severed, no matter what I or Elrohir choose. And he must live on in this fading world, his family growing ever smaller."

Amariel bit her lip, twining a leaf between her fingers. Elladan had spoken of Arwen, and of her leaving with the one she truly loved, and the option of choosing a mortal fate. It was a fate in which he would burn fast and bright, and when he grew old and weary of the world, leave to another place, an unknown place where he could start anew, away from the toll and toil of this world. Seen that way, she could understand why it would appeal to him. She looked at him then, still in that relaxed pose that was not truly relaxed, his eyes once more dark and far away, and she knew the time for secrets was over. Once more, her decision was made for her. There was only one thing she could do, one thing that was right. She closed her eyes for a moment, then let her voice form the two simple words.

"Not smaller." At his questioning look she placed a hand over her stomach lightly, not looking at him. There was silence.

"So that is why you came." His tone was impossible to read.

"I had no choice." She still could not bring herself to look at him, and closed her eyes instead. "Look," she said. "I did not come to make any demands, nor do I expect anything from you. I have no intention to abuse your title or what naught, valar knows, my culture does not put too much value in that either way. I came because I wanted to know the father of my child, because I needed to know who you were… and because I needed my child to know. I will not hold you to anything, but I will ask this of you, only this one thing: Be there for our child, as long as you're able to. Let him or her know you're there. I would not have my only child grow with no father."

Silence followed her words, and she dared a look at him. When she did, he raised his knuckles to her cheek, giving the lightest caress.

"Did you truly think I would abandon any child of mine?" At her silence, he sighed, looking down for a moment. "I'm sorry." When Amariel looked at him questioningly, he withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry I did this to you. The child will be a peredhil, Amariel, and our choice is a doom laid upon any of our line. I did not wish anyone to suffer that fate, to experience of even having to think of the possibility of your child leaving you forever. I would not wish that upon anyone. I would not wish it upon you."

"But t'is a gift" Amariel corrected him, raising a hand to his cheek and making him look at her once more. "It is a chance to leave this earth when the time is ripe and you have grown old and weary, a chance to escape it's decline. It is a release for a weary soul, a set of wings that could bring you somewhere new and fresh. I would not hinder my child from using it… and I will not try to hinder you."

For a moment, he looked like he had trouble understanding her words. He stared at her.

"You would have me leave, pass with the souls of men? If our child does the same it would leave you alone, Amariel, your family gone."

"If it is what you need, what my child needs." At his look, she almost wanted to laugh. _He worries for me_ , she thought. _What a silly thing_. Seeing his plight put a new light on her own. She knew she had her whole family, even her mother, whom she would meet again one day. He could not, and if his soul was more human, he, and by extension her child, could weary of the world in a way she never would. Every laugh they'd have would eventually become a labour, every breath a duty. She had no doubt she could make them stay, atleast for a while, but then what would their lives be like, devoid of all energy and life? One day, perhaps even her child, whom she'd never yet seen, could loose all love for her and look upon her with apathy, and see a world gone gray and bleak. What mother would she have been, to do such a thing to the innocent warmth hiding in her belly? Nay, death would be their salvation. She would have to let go of this new part of her family, before it had even come to life.

"I did not say it was not bitter to receive." She continued, her voice suddenly wavering. "But t'is a gift none the less. Either way, we do not know what will happen at the end of time. Perhaps I will see you again, and my child, when the time is ripe." She smiled softly, eyes going down to where her hand still lay on her belly.

"And in the meantime?"

"I would be happy you made the choice that was right for you." There was a long silence, and finally she looked up at him.

"All my life," He said quietly. "I've been told by the ones around me to choose an elven fate. It is wiser, they say. It is easier. Snide remarks and innuendoes constantly remind me of the pain I'd provoke if I left, of the loss I'd inflict on them. And now here you are, carrying your first child, without preamble willing to release both it and it's father regardless of consequences to yourself." He gazed at her, shaking his head. "You are unbelievable."

"What would I be if I didn't?" Amariel asked softly, frowning. Then uncertainly leaned forward, letting one hand linger on his cheek in a soft caress. "I... I care for you Elladan. I would have you do what is right for you. Keeping you locked in, hurting you, it would be hurting me. The same goes for our child."

He took her hand that touched his cheek in his, And turning his head kissed the inside of her palm.

"Which is exactly what makes you so unbelievable," Elladan murmured.

"T'is no more than you would do," she answered, knowing she was right. He made no response, pulling her closer instead and wrapping the blanket over them both as the night grew cooler. Amariel relaxed into him and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, comfortable and at ease as she had not been in a long time. Then slowly, new thoughts wound themselves into her brain, like slithering snakes breaking up her sense of ease. She sighed, and Elladan looked over at her.

"There is something else you need to know," she began, but he put a finger on her lips.

"Can it wait till tomorrow?" He asked softly. At her look he smiled. "I do not think you are aware of how exhausted you look, veaurea nin"

She paused momentarily at the endearment, deciding she liked it, then frowned at him.

"I am not so exhausted, and t'is important."

"Does it in any way include something that may pose a threat to my realm or my people?"

"No…"

"Can it wait till tomorrow?" Amariel hesitated. Now she'd finally worked up the courage to speak, would she dare tomorrow? Carefully, she looked up, seeing the steady silver gaze looking back at her.

"Aye…" She said at last.

"Then I suggest you sleep now, and we'll speak of it tomorrow." He put a light pressure on her shoulder, and immediately she went, laying down beside him. She frowned.

"Elladan…"

"Are you going to argue with me?" He looked down at her, propped on one arm, his eyes glittering.

"T'is nothing to laugh about, noldo," Amariel fired back, attempting to give her best scowl. One corner of his lip quirked. "Seriously. When your family learns… They will be shocked, horrified!" He tipped his head.

"Not horrified."

"Allright, perhaps not horrified but at the very least shocked and angry with you!" Not to mention what they'd say to her true identity…

"And that is something new?" he asked jestingly. She sent him a look. "It does not matter Amariel, not now."

"But…" When she attempted to sit up once more, he caught her shoulder, pushing her back down.

"Relax," he said, a soft command in his voice. Instantly, her body relaxed, and she sunk back down slowly to lie beside him. She glanced at him, and immediately she knew that there was no point in arguing. He had a slightly admonishing expression, but at the same time there was a sparkle in his eyes as he regarded her. She must look more tired than she'd thought for him to find it so amusing. Gathering what was left of her strength, she turned her back to him with a small huff.

"It's rude to laugh at someone," she murmured pointedly. That earned her a chuckle, and she felt her own lips twitching in response.

"Good night, Amariel." Elladan said, placing a warm kiss on her temple. "Sleep well."

She did not even have time to return the wish. The moment her eyes closed, all consciousness fled.

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

Author's note: Again, sorry about the delay. Exams and then traveling have taken up much of my time, but I'll try to write some more when I've got the time. :)

Can't pm guests, so I'll answer here:

 **Guest** : Yeah... sorry about that..

 **Guest** : Okay, that might be a bit harsh, but then, maybe she deserves it. Amariel has certainly been making some bad decisions lately. Either way, thank you for the review!


	10. Chapter 9: An Invitation

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 9: An invitation**

When she woke, the sun was rising. She blinked against the light, still unused to feeling the sun beat directly upon her like it did here in Rivendell. Someone was pulling their hand slowly through her hair, sending pleasant chills down her back. For a moment it was so comfortable that she did not move. Then slowly she opened her eyes. She was lying on Elladan's arm, nestled close to him on the blanket. Around them the meadow bloomed in thousands of different colours, even more vibrant now that daylight shone upon it.

"Good morning," Elladan said, a trace of amusement in his voice. "I trust you've slept well?"

"I did." She sat up, and immediately she felt hair fall into her face. She pushed at it, but her entire scalp felt wrong, the hair pulling at it in ways she'd never intended. She raised a hand to it and frowned, realizing that her braids had come out.

"I've tidied some of it, but you still have much to do." Elladan commented behind her. Then he paused, and again she could almost hear the laughter in his voice. "Now I understand what humans mean by bed-head."

Amariel paused her finger combing to mock push at him, a scowl on her face

"I have long hair," she defended, "And it's thick. Don't blame me." She guided a long lock over her head, letting it fall where it should. Slowly, her scalp felt better, the hair settling down. Elladan watched her.

"You have beautiful hair," he said. "But when you sleep that heavily no doubt it will get tangled."

"Perhaps I should have kept sleeping," Amariel mumbled testily "and not have woken up at all." She was deftly braiding two small new braids, meeting them at the back in the manner of the Mirkwood elves.

"Nay, it was good that you woke up. I was beginning to consider waking you myself. We have to get back to Rivendell."

At that she stretched, then looked about. It did seem a bit late. The sun was already well off the mountains around, shining brilliantly in the sky.

"I'll get the blanket," she said, rising to her feet and gathering said item in her hands. He nodded, and soon they'd cleared their little camping site.

They called for their horses, waiting as they both raced back to their masters. Suddenly Elladan cursed in quenyan, the sound leaving him quick and soft.

"I missed it." he said at Amariel's look. "The meeting. We were supposed to have a meeting with Glorfindel this morn. They're probably wondering where I am…"

"Really?" Amariel grinned suddenly, then jumped on Rhiw, feeling the horse trip sideways in anticipation and excitement at her mood. She turned the mare, spurring her straight to a gallop. "Then we should not keep them waiting!" There was a shout as Rhiw jumped into motion, sprinting across the bank and throwing her head for joy. Soon, another horse was heard behind her, quickly catching up. Amariel met Elladan's eyes, and he grinned, the meeting momentarily forgotten as his horse overtook hers.

"We can't let them do that now, can we?" Amariel said to Rhiw who tossed her head, and putting on an extra burst of speed, soon got them head to head with the other two once more. Amariel leaned back, stretching out her arms and feeling the wind whip through her hair in a way it never could in Mirkwood. Beside her Elladan let out a shout, and about them, the valley sped past, a massive open expanse, a clear blue sky. She laughed for joy, and her voice was carried away by the wind. At this moment, life was wonderful.

AHoD

AHoD

"Where have you been?!" Amariel looked down to see Elrohir, frowning up at them both.

"We visited the meadow." Both of Elrohir's eyebrows raised, but if Elladan noticed he did not show, jumping of his horse easily then turning to Amariel to make sure she got off well. She slipped of the horse on her own, raising an eyebrow at his gesture. He merely sent her one of those half smiles of his in response, turning back to his brother. "You were asleep, we did not want to disturb you."

" _You_ did not want to disturb _me_?" Elrohir repeated. "Or did you not want _me_ to disturb _you_?" Immediately, Amariel felt that familiar heat reach her cheeks, but Elladan threw his twin a quick grin.

"Whichever you want," They led their horses back into the stables, Elrohir holding the door open for them both.

"You hurt my feelings." He said. Then he groaned a little, rubbing his neck. "Atleast you could have woken me up so I did not sleep so long in that confounded chair."

"I'm so sorry about that, Elrohir." Amariel said earnestly. He'd stayed to support her and then she'd left him all alone to suffer for it. But Elrohir smiled at her appeasingly.

"I wouldn't be so sorry for me. I imagine t'is he who will need it." He glanced at Elladan, who looked at him questioningly. "Glorfindel sought me out. He wanted to know where you were, and some others present told him you'd ridden out with Amariel. He did not look too pleased about that."

Elladan grimaced. "No, he wouldn't be. Did you find out what the meeting was about?"

"I'm not sure." Elrohir paused, "But I think he had some comment on the route we are to take on our next patrol."

Elladan nodded as they quickly brushed of the horses once more. "Then I will speak with him after." He said. Elrohir tipped his head in acknowledgment, and soon the twins were speaking of other matters as they worked. Amariel, meanwhile, was having a quick, internal debate. She had still not revealed her true identity, and she had an odd feeling that she must do so as quickly as possible. The only thing bothering her was that she had not spoken with Curunir of it. Surely, if she told Elladan, others would soon know, and she did not know how that would affect Megor's choices. He would definetly see it as a gesture of faith in the noldor, perhaps even hinting at a future alliance. She'd be forcing his hand, which was the last thing she wanted to do at this moment in time. She was still unsure of what he was capable of, but if her fears were true…

"Amariel?" She looked up to see both Elladan and Elrohir watching her curiously. They'd finished the work on the horses. Slowly, she lowered her brush and dropped it into it's box.

"There's something I need to tell you." Elladan frowned.

"Are you allright?" He touched her cheek, but Amariel withdrew.

"I am fine! Truly! But I need to tell you. My na..."

Suddenly the doors opened.

"Elrohir, Elladan, Amariel." Elrond greeted smoothly, before turning to his eldest son. "I've looked for you."

"I was out."

"So I heard." Elrond's eyes trailed to Amariel, and once more she had a hard time reading him. Was that anger? Joy? Apathy?

Elladan stilled beside her, and suddenly she realized how close they were standing. Something seemed to be exchanged between father and son, but she could not tell what. She glanced at his twin, only to find him watching the other two, a frown on his face. She stepped away from Elladan, clearing her throat subtly and wondering if there was any way she could leave without seeming rude. Immediately their attention turned to her, something in Elrond's gaze making her even more uncomfortable.

"There is a banquet tonight, in honour of Arwen's return. It will be held in the great hall. We've made sure there're extra tables and chairs for our Mirkwood visitors." Elrond smiled. "Everybody is invited."

"Will Curunir be able to come?" Amariel asked.

"Nay, I think it will be better that he stay in bed this day while his arm mends. There will be food served there."

"Then I think I will have to refrain myself." Amariel said. "I fear I do not even have any proper attire, and I would not sully your daughters honour by showing up to her banquet dressed thus." She looked down abashedly, taking in her clothes. "T'is fine, really," she added, seeing the frowns on the twins' faces. "I think I will visit Curunir during dinnertime and keep him company. I know no one here other than him either way." In truth both she and Curunir had purposefully refrained from bringing any formal wear or elaborate dresses, sticking instead to the simplest, most downtrodden clothing they could find. They'd done so because proper attire could easily reveal her high lineage, and be an easy prod on everyone else as to her identity. This was offcourse a plan laid before they realized Elladan was the father, and Elrond would have to be informed of her pregnancy and identity either way.

Elrond looked at her consideringly for a moment, an almost thoughtful look crossing his face. "Then you may join us at the high table, if you will." He said. "I'm sure we can lend you something to wear."

"Oh, but it is too much, my lord." Amariel said quickly. "I couldn't possibly..."

"It is nothing. I am sure the tailors will enjoy fitting you." Something flickered in his eyes, and she wondered if there was some inside joke or other that he was finding amusing.

"But Curunir…" Amariel trailed off.

"Will not be alone." Elrond finished for her. "There are many healers traversing the wards at any time. I am sure they will keep him entertained."

She nodded then, accepting defeat. It would be rude to continue objecting, especially when she'd pushed the boundary already.

"Then I thank you for this gracious gift. It will be an honour to join you at the banquet." Elrond smiled.

"I shall have a tailor sent to your room immediately."

"Actually," Elladan broke in, his gaze flickering back to Amariel before landing on his father. "There is something…" ¨

"You have an appointment yourself." Elrond said, in a slightly admonishing tone. "Glorfindel wanted to speak with you, seeing as you _were not there_ with your patrol. I do not think it can wait."

Elladan looked at his father for a second more, and something his expression made the former frown.

"I'll find him immediately." He glanced back at Amariel, an apologetical expression on his face. "We'll speak of it later." And squeezing her hand quickly, he left. For a moment Amariel looked after him, in surprise. She'd expected him to want to inform his father immediately, but evidently that was not the case. And so she watched his retreating back, wondering when "later" might come.

AHoD

AhoD

"So… You've made your decision I imagine."

Amariel whirled around to find Megor standing in the shadow of a tree.

"Megor."

"You look surprised." He sauntered up to her, his usual smile forming on his lips. "Don't be. You told me you needed to think. I'm sure you've had plenty of time." At that Amariel frowned.

"I do not have time for this now. Speak with me later." She continued on into the gardens, but Megor simply fell into step next to her.

"You're headed to Curunir? Don't bother. They have got him knocked out cold." Amariel stopped, turning to Megor in frustration.

"Why should I believe what you say? Why should I even trust you?"

At that Megor stopped. "Why should you not?" Amariel made no reply, and Megor put a hand on his heart. "My princess… I am wounded that you put so little faith in me." Amariel touched a hand to her temple, letting out a breath. She would never trust a man with his ambition, and she was both worried sick for Curunir and anxious about the upcoming banquet.

"I am sorry," she said at last. "I had little reason to speak to you thusly. I was in the wrong."

He seemed to take her apology at face value. Smiling, he stepped nearer and laid a hand on her cheek.

"Well then brethil nin, do I have your answer?"

Amariel stepped out of his touch.

"It won't happen Megor. I'm sorry." His expression did not change at all.

"What?"

"I said, I will not marry you. I think you knew that would be my answer."

"Are you sure? This is about more than just you."

"A marriage is a sacred bond formed between two people, not ten. It is about you and me and I'm telling you no."

"Don't be silly. A marriage is an alliance, a political statement. You marry me, it would show a Mirkwood united, the silvans and avari…" he took her hand in his, " _and_ the sindar."

"You representing the sindar I take it?" Amariel withdrew her hand in disgust. Using marriage as a means to an end was seen as ignoble, even vulgar in any elven realm. "You realize Thranduil is sindar?"

"Many do not feel that way. They do not feel represented by him. Believe me, I know of many – adar knows many."

"You mean the purists?" Amariel said, sick of his games. "The sindarin elves who think the other races of Mirkwood base, who would have them crawling at their feet, doing their bidding?" She kept her eyes locked on his, watching as he stiffened, his eyes darkening. "Aye, I imagine he knows them all very well." There was a long silence as Megor studied her.

"He does. And because of it he knows many of their plans and thoughts. You know they are dangerous, you see them as your enemy," He paused, his pale blue eyes lingering on hers, and she could almost see the shrewd thought taking place behind them. "And you're right. You're right to do so." He smiled suddenly, a smile that might have been meant to look placating, but seemed mocking to her. "Aye, you're right to worry. They do not think Thranduil is legitimate, my sweet princess. They chafe at his reign, they hated his queen, they saw his marriage to her as an image of what he had become – a broken elf pandering to the _dark elves_." His voice dropped at that, knowing full well the negative weight carried in those words. Dark elves, the elves of night, a lower race and a lesser kind, inherently weak because they had not seen the light in Valinor, nor had an inkling of it due to the presence of a maia in their midst. "Not my father offcourse!" Megor exclaimed, opening his arms, "he would never have such a problem with the queen's race, nor do I have any problems with it, which is partly why I am proposing to you, princess. The purists might want to usurp the throne, throw Thranduil and his family of it, but they won't if we marry. Together we could have children that would nearly be pure sindar, true princes and princess of the realm. I am sure they could overlook that momentary lapse in pure lineage if it were my children, _our_ children, that followed in succession. Then you and your family would be safe." Except she was not first in succession, not even close.

Amariel shook her head, stepping away from Megor, but he followed her.

"Think, my love! You realize what this means? Your father is in mortal danger, he would be the first to get taken out for his sins. I can stop this, but not without your help."

"Then I thank you for your warning," Amariel said, turning back towards the path. Now she definitely had to see Curunir. "If the purists are as unhappy as you say, that is something we must deal with, but not like this. I'll have to…"

"There is nothing you can do, princess." Megor stepped infront of her, blocking her. "You are a long way from home and you cannot travel alone. I am here, and so here is your option. Marry me. Our matrimony shall secure the lineage, your father will live."

"That will never happen." Amariel tried to sidestep him, an inkling of fear rising inside her as he stepped in her way once more. There was something off about his eyes, some manic energy in them as he stared at her.

Megor spread his hands. "If we do not, they will usurp the king. Their plans are nearly ready to be set into action, there is no time to stop it. There is only one way - marry me, and your father, your family will be saved."

"I cannot." She finally managed to slip by him, and started a brisk walk.

"Cannot or will not?" Suddenly Megor sounded angry. "What are you doing? Will you just ignore their plight?"

"I'll do something."

" _What_?" She made no answer as they reached the edge of the thin forest, looking out at the open section of the gardens once more, a soft scent of herbs reaching her. There was no one there.

"You can't reject this offer, girl." Megor was keeping pace with her, his tone angrier by the minute. When Amariel made no response once more, she heard something akin to a growl behind her.

"You're making a _mistake_!" He grabbed her from behind, curling hand around her torso and pulling her back to him. "Amariel, think of how much we could do together! How well we _fit_." She gritted her teeth.

"No."

"You cannot tell me you feel nothing." Amariel winced when his arm tightened, turning into a vice like grip. She struggled, but he did not loosen his hold.

"Let me go, Megor!" she ground out. His arm around her hurt, his voice sending awful chills down her spine. She struggled harder, but he was stronger, by far stronger.

"Will you doom your father?" Megor asked, his voice catching as he exerted himself to hold her still. "And for what? I know you like me. I've seen it in your eyes, I heard it in your voice…"

His breath was in her neck, a hot, wet, unwelcome feeling. He pulled her backwards as if trying to find them somewhere more private. From the corner of her eyes Amariel could see the trees they'd just come out of nearing. It stirred up a memory of trees in another time, in another place, long ago.

"No!" The scream burst from her fuelled by panic. She had nothing, but there was a stone on the ground. In a quick swipe she picked it up, twisted and hit him straight in the face. The force was enough to throw back his head, and she was freed from his embrace and fell. In a moment she'd stumbled back up and faced him, her panic turning to anger.

"What are you trying to gain from this? What?" Her voice raised. "There is nothing to be had from this marriage! Nothing!" Megor touched a hand to the wound on his temple, and stared at the blood on it. His jaw worked and for a while he was silent. Then when he spoke, his voice was loud and clear, his tone a world away from the what he'd just used.

"I love you, Amariel. I always have, always will. Is that not enough?" For a moment Amariel was stunned speechless. "You said you loved me too..." His hand reached out for her, but she stepped back quickly, raising the bloodied stone between them threateningly.

"Don't!" Her voice came out loud, and lighter than intended. He stared at her, and taking a couple of deep breaths, Amariel tried to calm herself. Then when she looked at him again, she could only feel disgust.

"I do not know for sure what your intentions were in this proposal, but I do know that you hold no love for me, so do not pretend to." She said, her voice even. "I will not be a pawn in whatever vile political game you are playing, and if you ever so much as lay a hand on me again," She dropped the bloodied stone into his lap. "I will sever it from your body. That, I swear."

For a while, Megor stared up at her, stunned, and she kept his gaze evenly. Then slowly, he stood.

"You are in no position to make threats, _princess_." He said, all remnants of kindness gone from his voice.

"But I am. I am your superior. You forget your place."

"My superior?" Megor laughed. "For how long? The only ones with us are my followers, who hold no love for you, and Curunir, who is bedridden."

"The noldor will not accept any infringement on their grounds."

"The noldor know nothing." Megor smiled. "You have kept them in the dark, haven't you? Just as you've kept your father in the dark, I imagine." He stepped nearer to her, until they were almost touching.

"I gave you a chance, but you were too stupid to take it. Now…" Suddenly he stopped, and she realized there were a couple of noldor passing them by. Quickly Megor stepped away from her, turning away from them so that they might not see his bruise or the bloodied stone, and Amariel realized she was starving for air. Softly, she let her breath out as the noldor passed. When they were gone, Megor straightened.

"Go ahead now. Run back to your little noldor lover, whom you spend so much time with."

"You've been spying on me." It was not a question, but Megor grinned, the tightening of his face causing a trickle of blood to run from his bruise down the side of his face.

"Oh, we're all spying on you, princess. Have you not noticed?"

AHoD

AHoD

"Nay, that is not possible."

"But I have to speak with him."

"I have no doubt it can wait." The guard looked down his nose at her, and Amariel had to refrain from letting out a string of curses in avarin. After her confrontation with Megor, she'd immediately gone to Curunir to warn him of the situation, but found that true to Megor's words, the sinda was sleeping soundly. Unable to wake him, she'd wandered outside, only to return to Curunirs side quickly. She feared for his life, now that she'd finally gotten an inkling of how far Megor was willing to go for power.

But there was nothing she could do to protect the general, and so, after hanging by his sickbed for a time, praying that he might wake, she'd left his side, telling the healers to keep an extra close watch on him. After a considerable thought she'd come to the conclusion that Megor was unlikely to strike just yet, as it was in his interest to keep the noldor in the dark. That gave her time to take precautionairy measures, which is what had led her here, to Elladan's room. He was the only one she trusted enough to tell of these matters. The only problem was that instead of meeting Elladan, she was being faced down by the most stereotypically noldorin elf she'd ever met: a "guard" of the "very important meeting" taking place; or so he'd said.

"You don't understand," she said in exasperation, for the umpteenth time that day. "It's very important, otherwise I would not be here. Please believe me."

"I'm sure it is important to you," the guard sniffed, "but that does not mean it is important to our lord. He is very busy, girl, he can't deal with any trifle that strikes your fancy." Amariel frowned.

"You mistake me, this is no trifle -"

"- to you." The guard interrupted. " _yes_ , I've understood that. What I am trying to make you _understand_ " He drew out that word with a very light voice, as if speaking to an annoying child. "is that that does not necessarily make it important _to_ _him_. Believe me, I've dealt with many love struck elleths with "very important matters" that they need to speak to him about. What makes you think you're any different, silvan?" He said her race with slight disdain, and for a moment Amariel was lost for words. Then suddenly there was a squeal, and she looked over to see a couple of elleths hurrying towards them, grins on their faces.

"You're Amariel, aren't you? Please tell me you are..."

"Offcourse she is. What other elleth here matches her description? She's the only silvan in Rivendell..."

The smaller elleth let out a whine just as she reached Amariel, and immediately laid a hand on her cheek, studying her face.

"Oh, this is so exciting!"

Amariel stepped away from her touch, looking between the two questioningly. "Pardon me but… who are you?"

"Forgive us, we didn't introduce ourselves," the taller elleth smiled at her, her grey eyes so dark they could nearly be described as black. "My name is Faelwen, and this is Lellil. We were assigned to help you find a dress for tonight."

"Elrond assigned _two_ tailors?" Faelwen giggled at her expression.

"Nay, but we couldn't pass up the opportunity, could we? Mirkwood elves are so rare -"

"and it is not everyday we get an order from lord Elrond himself," Lellil interrupted exitedly. Again she reached for Amariel, this time taking a lock of brown hair in her hands and glancing down at her worn down outfit. "And you have so much hidden potential..."

"Hidden potential?" Amariel repeated. Then she shook her head, turning back to the guard. "Look, I really have to speak -"

"Still?" The guard looked surprised. "I would have thought getting ready for the banquet would immediately jump to the top of your priority list."

Amariel stared at him. "But there're still ages till the banquet starts," she said. "And this is very-"

"Important. Yes, I've heard that." The guard sighed. "you really will not give in, will you?"

"No! Look, my friend's life is in jeopardy. I cannot just overlook that." There was a pause.

"A life in jeopardy." The guard repeated, disbelief clear in his voice. "Here. In Imladris." Amariel nodded, and there was another pause. Then he let out a bark of laughter. "Nobody before you have ever gone _that_ far." When she frowned he smiled. "Perhaps that tactic works very well in your home, silvan, but here we are in a safe haven, protected by Lord Elrond himself. No one is in danger here, there are no threats to be concerned of."

"There is, but he cannot detect this one."

"And you can?" Amariel hesitated, and he sighed. "Well then, give me a message and I'll relay it when the meeting finishes."

"I cannot do that."

"Oh really? Is this "threat" private now as well?" He was openly mocking her.

"T'is not something I can tell you."

"Then it wasn't that important in the first place, was it?" He smiled again and Amariel felt just about ready to punch the ellon.

"That does _not_ mean..."

"Can't it wait till evening?" Lellil interrupted suddenly, taking hold of her elbow once more. "Elladan will be there then. You can take him aside and speak with him."

"I can't, really. This cannot wait, -"

"Yes it can. Now go get ready for the banquet. Wouldn't want to disappoint our lord, would we?" The guard was looking at her with a nearly lewd expression, and Amariel snapped, her patience finally gone.

"Now listen here, you _stuck-up_ -"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" Faelwen exclaimed, taking hold of her elbow suddenly.

"Aye, we'll have so much fun!" Lellil's smile was a bit too large as they pulled her away. Amariel glanced back at the guard, who was grinning. When he met her eyes, his lips moved in a quick kiss and he winked.

AHoD

AHoD

Amariel frowned, wincing a little as they pulled up the remaining parts of her wet hair in the dot on her head. She was sitting in a small room, lined with rows and rows of cloth and linen, her skin scrubbed raw and nothing but a towel to cover herself.

"Are you sure this is truly necessary?" She asked doubtfully. "T'is only a banquet."

" _Only a banquet?_ " Lellil repeated, aghast. "T'is a banquet in celebration of Arwen's return, a celebration of our beloved lady's well being and their family's joy. Elrond even gave us full access to his store of fabrics and dresses." She gestured around. "Do you know how rare that is?"

Amariel glanced over at the cupboards of clothing uneasily. "Now why would he do that?"

"Amariel." Faelwen crouched infront of her, a stack of different colored cloths in her hands. "What bothers you so?"

At that Amariel hesitated. "I… I was hoping I would be able to speak with Elladan and his family before the banquet."

"Oh, you won't." Lellil, ever the sweet, smiling elleth had said that so quickly, and with such certainty, that Amariel stared. "They're having a meeting with Glorfindel, I think they're going to go over the route and necessary equipment with the twin's patrol after that. I imagine they're not going to be done anytime soon." She explained. At Amariel's continued stare she added "It is about the orcs in the mountains. " as if that would clear it all up.

"Then I would speak with Curunir, before the banquet..." Faelwen, who had been methodically taking a piece of cloth after the other and held it up against Amariel's skin, stilled, a shadow crossing her eyes.

"I do not think that will be possible either," she said. "He is asleep."

"But he's been asleep all day and night, surely he must wake up sometime before the banquet."

At that Lellil and Faelwen exchanged a look, but said nothing. When Faelwen raised her hand to compare another cloth to her skin, this one silver, Amariel caught her wrist. The elf stilled, but she simply took the cloth from her hand and covered it in both of her own, eyes fastening on Faelwen's imploringly.

"Please," She said. "I've known Curunir all my life, and never has he done anything to harm others. He has been a second father to me, a loving uncle, who was there when times were hard and my father was busy. If something is wrong, tell me."

Faelwen kept her eyes for a while, then she looked over at Lellil.

"Please," Amariel repeated. "Has… has his condition worsened?"

"No." Faelwen's eyes returned to hers, an apology in them. "He has been recovering well." Amariel felt her heart sink.

"What happened?" She asked, suddenly out of breath. "What did they do?"

"Nothing permanent." Amariel's eyes widened, and she let go of the other's hands, mouth opening soundlessly.

"It's not bad!" Faelwen exclaimed, taking Amariel's hands once more. "They've only drugged him. Nothing more."

"Who? _Why?_ "

"Because they were afraid. Of you. Of mirkwoodelves." When Amariel made no response, Faelwen sighed.

"When you first arrived, it coincided with a massive increase of orcs in the mountains. We'd already been treating tens of humans who'd been caught unawares by orcs if they so much as neared the mountains. They all spoke of something dark, some evil presence that drove them mad with fear. Then you two came along, and you… you were fine. What was more, you had not even been attacked, even though you came through the mountain pass, the very home of the orcs. And when you were here you both acted strange. Though you said you were there to heal and relax, none of you did. The orcs were spotted nearer to Rivendell, closer than they've dared to come in centuries, and rumours started emerging that you were the cause, that you were in league with the orcs. They thought Curunir was there to protect you, while you seduced our lord and thus weakened the realm from within. Some even thought that you regularly performed dark magic using your voice alone, and that in turn had darkened your skin and hair, which explains why you're not light enough to be purely sindar or silvan, yet not dark enough to be avarin." Suddenly Faelwen snorted, as if the rumours were amusing to her. "I know, t'was ridiculous, and I told them so. No doubt Ornon had a part in spreading those rumours; he always had a flare for ridiculous speculations. But some elves believed them, believed them enough to give Curunir a double dose of sleeping agent." She smiled at Amariel apologetically.

"But I'm of mixed race," Amariel exclaimed, looking between the two. "I was born like this, I can't help that. The sun turned my skin golden, not witchcraft!"

"We know! It is not us you have to convince." Faelwen looked at her sympathetically. "Either way, Elrond got wind of it. He had Glorfindel give the elves spreading these harmful rumors a warning on his behalf. That effectively quieted them down."

"Elrond?"

"Aye. He must have heard somehow. Decided things were going too far."

Amariel looked away thoughtfully. What they'd done to Curunir wasn't dangerous, but certainly not harmless either. Knowing sedatives in Mirkwood, she knew that overdose could easily hamper the healing process, and at the very least would cause a terrible headache when he woke. He did not deserve such a thing, but what was more important was what these hostilities could mean if mirkwoodelves were hurt in the mountains and needed aid. At the very worst, the elves of Rivendell might start ignoring their plight. They could not let this continue. She could not let this continue.

"You think... Do you think Elrond would be open to bettering relations with the elves of Mirkwood? I mean, would he be opposed to -"

Faelwen was grinning. "A foreign family member?"

"I didn't say that" Amariel said, but Lellil laughed, her small form nearly bouncing with joy.

"You don't need to. Everyone knows about you and Elladan's relationship. It's all we've been talking about these last days." At Amariel's expression she giggled, and was joined by Faelwen. "How he looked for you, before you'd even met... How you two instantly got along. You are always disappearing off somewhere, _alone…_ " Of a sudden, Lellil stopped, stilling on her toes as her mouth opened in a small "o". Then it slowly turned into a grin, and she sprinted over to the clothing cabinet, pulling out two pieces of cloth, one dark blue, the other silver.

Carefully she laid them both on Amariel's shoulder. She let out another squeal immediately, making a quick dance around the room.

"It's perfect! Perfect!" Faelwen smiled, taking the pieces of her shoulder, and carefully tidying the rest of the clothing.

"What is it?" Amariel asked. Before Faelwen could answer, Lellil came to a stop before her, silver eyes glittering. "T'is fate. That's what it is."

And with that they both disappeared into an adjoining room, leaving Amariel alone in her towel.

AHOD

AHoD

Amariel took a deep breath, trying to get used to the bodice they'd put her in.

"Are you sure this is supposed to be this tight?" she said as the garment pressed on her uncomfortably.

"Aye, t'is fine. Believe me, you look better like this." When Amariel did not respond, she looked up teasingly, adding "I am convinced that _lord_ _Elladan_ will love it too."

Amariel sent her a quick look, a small frown on her face. The two elleths were the biggest gossips she'd ever met, and though she did enjoy them, they'd somehow managed to keep their chatter up since they'd returned from that other room with a mass of cloth she would soon realize was her dress. Faelwen laughed.

"Come now, cut us some slack. Our lord has shown interest for someone at last, and we're the ones outfitting said lass. Let us enjoy it while we may. But t'is a high goal you've set your eyes on. Elrond is of a proud lineage, one of the highest there is, and so are his children. You have to look fit for the occasion, or you won't impress the elders."

"Elladan has not shown interest in any elleth?" She'd imagined someone of his position would have many suitors, and he did not seem overly unresponsive to elleths. After all, he had not been anywhere near shy the first time _they_ met. The possibility of him commonly abstaining had certainly not crossed her mind.

"Nay, not really." Faelwen responded. "He has been approached by several elleths testing the waters, so to speak. It used to be seen as quite the grand achievement to ensnare one of the twins, regardless of how long it lasted; I even approached him myself once. But he never showed any real or prolonged interest for anybody, especially after that sad incident with his mother. You know, that kind of thing can truly change people…" Amariel frowned.

"Incident? With the orcs?"

"Aye, the poor lad was not that old when his mother was ambushed and tortured in the mountains. He and Elrohir saw the whole scene, for they were the ones collecting their mother's mangled body afterwards." Faelwen's sighed. "It seemed to hit Elladan hardest, poor elf. He returned alone with his mother, for his horse was the fastest and he would not entrust the task to any other."

"Just imagine that experience," Lellil murmured, "holding your own mother as she moaned and cried out in pain, every movement of the horse renewed torture." She shook her head, and Faelwen continued.

"After that it took weeks for him to recover. He wouldn't eat, he barely drank, he wouldn't even speak with anybody, not even his own twin, who we all considered his other half. All he did was stay by his mother's side when he could, and then disappear off somewhere alone. And then, when he finally seemed to heal, he was changed. He and Elrohir spoke less, they laughed less, their previously endless practical jokes all but nonexistent. That was when he lost all interest in elleths. You see, he used to be quite flirtatious, he and Elrohir both, but for ages after their mother left they would not approach any elleth. Even the village elders worried - you know how they're always so preoccupied with furthering important lines and ensuring the legacy of everyone they deem important -" Faelwen rolled her eyes. "But the twins did not listen to their worries, particularly not Elladan. He seemed only interested in war, going out to fight orcs and the like, constantly vying to travel with his patrol. And when Elrohir joined his brother on their dangerous trips, rather than settling down with someone… They really did not know what to do" Suddenly she dropped her voice. "They even worried that Elrond would have no further heirs, that his twins would be the last heirs of his house. After all, the twins both seemed more manly than their sire, and perhaps the reason they cared for noone was that they desired human women rather than elleths. When Melwanis started showing interest for the Elladan, to whom she was already very close, the elders saw it as their last chance. They actively set him up with Melwanis in an attempt to prod something into life." She sighed. "Melwanis seemed up for the proposition," she continued, pulling her hair out of the dot and letting her fingers comb through Amariel's hair. "She even learned cooking and sewing in preparation for a potential child. But Elladan never seemed interested. Poor girl."

"Poor girl?" Lellil cut in, starting to braid one side of Amariel's hair. "She shouted at me when I last helped her get ready! She's cruel, that girl."

"You spoke her head full of nonsense while you worked!" Faelwen clucked. "Offcourse she snapped. Melwanis has never been one for pointless chatter."

"It was not pointless!"At that Amariel tuned the two out once more as their small bickering soon turned into endless chatter once more. The banquet could not come soon enough.


	11. Chapter 10: The Banquet

**A Hint of Dawn**

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. All characters from the LOTR books or any other of Tolkien's works belong to him.

 **Chapter 10: The Banquet**

If only the banquet could be postponed. Amariel frowned as her blurred reflection appeared in several of the windows she passed. Most of her hair was drawn back in many intricate braids that met a larger braid on the back of her head, a style that had a very noldorin feel to it. The rest of her hair was left loose, most likely as a nod to her silvan heritage by the tailors. Reaching up, Amariel touched the silver lace that they'd hung at the back of her head. It felt distinctly odd, seeing as in Mirkwood, no one but the royal family carried anything resembling a crown or circlet. Attempting to wear something similar was seen as presumptuous, which made it distinctly uncomfortable for her to suddenly wear a noldorin sign of nobility. She tried to take a deep breath as the side doors of the main hall came into view, but to no avail. Her bodice pressed against her breast, preventing her from taking any deep breaths, and she laid a hand on her chest instead, pressing on until she reached the doors. Raising a hand, she knocked quietly. Immediately the doors opened wide, the guard bowing his head to her.

"My lady," Amariel stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was the noise. A room full of chatter and laughter, music filtering through the air creating an enchanting atmosphere. Then she saw the elves. Standing scattered and in groups, their dresses rippling like waterfalls, jewelry and embellished swords glittering in the soft light. She felt the warmth, smelled the most delicious scents carried in the air. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the many impressions, then opened them once more, feeling entirely at ease. She felt a soft smile appear on her lips -

"What are you waiting for?" The guard snapped. Suddenly Amariel realized she'd hung in the entrance for too long.

"I am sorry," she said quickly. The guard huffed, and she stepped away, wondering at his sudden change in attitude. After all, it was not normal for a guard to grow that disrespectful and angry that quickly. She glanced back at the door to see him watching her, a dark expression on his face. Quietly she turned away, finding a quiet corner of the room, out of the guard's sight. There she sat on a small ledge, looking about. Her people could say many things of the noldorin elves, but they certainly knew how to dress up and host a beautiful banquet. She met the gaze of an elleth. Her mouth seemed to drop open, before quickly snapping shut, her eyes traveling down Amariel's outfit. Amariel looked away quickly, only to meet another set of curious eyes. Slowly, chatter turned into murmurs around her, and she crossed her arms in front of herself, wishing she'd been given a shawl. If only she could cover herself from all those odd glances she was getting. _No wonder_ , she thought bitterly. _A perceived lowly Mirkwood elf in rich noldorin attire. It was not everyday one got such an oddity to gawk at._

She did not notice when the attention shifted off her, nor the group that entered the room, causing silence to fall.

Someone stopped in front of her, and for a moment she hesitated, unwilling to meet another pair of prying eyes. Then there was a light touch under her chin, the tiniest pressure imploring her to look up. She did, meeting a pair of concerned, familiar silver eyes, more beautiful to her than any banquet. Without thought, she smiled a little, earning a grin in return.

"You worried me," Elladan said, offering her a hand. "I looked for you, but you were not home."

"Was I supposed to be?" Elladan looked at her quizzically. "Do you not celebrate in Mirkwood?" Amariel hesitated. She had always walked in with her family, last to enter as befitting the royal family. Thus, she'd never been concerned with finding another to enter with; she entered with her brothers, and that was it. No one ever questioned her. But she could not say that now. The moment Elladan had joined her, the number of people watching had magnified tenfold. This was not the time, nor place.

"We do not often have reason to celebrate," she said. Elladan's eyes darkened. "I was with Curunir." She continued, attempting to divert the subject.

"How is he?"

"He… He is still asleep."

" _What?_ " Elladan stared. "How come?"

Amariel bit her lip, but made no response. Openly expressing her distrust of his people was one of the last things she wanted to do. Instead she looked ahead, her eyes finally landing on his family. They were a sight to behold. If she'd thought the noldorin dresses alone made one look noble, the royal family looked simply marvelous. Elrond, wise and proud, was looking over the crowd thoughtfully while Elrohir and Arwen conversed quietly. They were all dressed in elaborate clothing of deep blue and grey, and suddenly Amariel realized what Lellil had meant with her cryptic remarks. Fate indeed.

When they reached the others, Arwen turned to them, the sparkle of her silver eyes perfectly enhanced by her dress.

"Amariel," she greeted, taking Amariel's hand in her own. "I am glad you could make it." At her words the others turned to her.

"So am I," Amariel said, "And I thank you all for this gown. T'is magnificent." Arwen looked down at her dress, before meeting her eyes once more, a sudden glint in her own.

"Keep it," she said. "It suits you." Amariel felt her mouth drop open in surprise, and she glanced over at Elrond, somehow expecting him to deny his daughter's offer. But he merely smiled, before turning to the tables.

"T'is time this banquet begun," he said, and immediately the room quieted, everyone moving to stand by their seats.

Elrond led the way to a large table, slightly elevated from the rest, his family following in procession behind him. Only then did Amariel notice the extended group of elves following their lead – nobility, by the looks of it. Among them she recognized Melwanis, who looked stunning in a deep red gown. She was frowning.

Elrond stood by the head of the table, watching as the group assembled, taking their seats. Elladan pulled out a chair for Amariel, who couldn't help the small, teasing smile she sent him as she sat. She did find the noldorin flair for customs charming. When she'd sat, Elladan turned, only for Melwanis to quickly slip into the seat beside Amariel. That left the only seat open one at the other side of the table, a couple of seats left of the two elleths. Elladan bowed and moved over without comment.

When everyone was seated, Elrond sat, raising his glass in the silence. "Let us begin."

AHoD

* * *

AHoD

The banquet seemed to go on forever. Amariel moved the remaining food around on her plate, unable to take a single more bite, and even so, elves around her were still dining and conversing. There was still ample food left on plates around the room, a bounty she'd never seen the likes of before in her life. Wine, too, was served in plenty, loosening the tongues of the normally stiff noldorin lords and ladies. It was causing a large change in demeanor around the room, especially in a certain someone sitting nearby.

She sighed as Melwanis grinned, finishing yet another glass of wine. She'd been particularly chatty this meal, but every nicety seemed to have a hidden prod directed at the forest-elf. Melwanis reached over the table, filling another round when her eyes alighted on Amariel's glass. It was untouched.

"What, do you not like our drink?" She asked pleasantly, smiling at the silvan.

"I'm sure it is good," Amariel said. "But I'd rather abstain from any alcoholic drinks for a while. Your cordial is good though." She smiled, raising her glass of Miruvor and taking a drink. Melwanis was not so easily deterred.

"Oh come now," she said, still in that pleasant tone. "A wood elf that does not want alcohol? Is that not what you're known for? Or is it perhaps that you do not trust us enough to let your guard down? Come, try some. I'm sure you've built up quite a good toleration of alcohol." She leaned over to pour in her glass, and Amariel felt her heart sink. Schooling her features into a smile, she placed a hand over her glass lightly just before Melwanis could pour.

"We do love it, and we have good reason to. If you'd ever tasted dorwinion I am sure you would be as fond of it as we." She said amicably. "But that does not mean we have an insatiable thirst for it. I rather would not, if you don't mind."

Melwanis paused for a moment. Then she lowered the wine, pouring even more into her own glass instead.

"Your loss." As if to underscore her words, she leaned back and downed half of it quickly, then placed the glass back on the table with a content sigh. Amariel looked away, and noticed several other noldor on the table looking disapprovingly at the elleth. Melwanis did not seem to notice. Her cheeks were growing slightly flushed.

"So," she said, letting her finger slide along the rim of her glass, "I notice you're wearing a lace? That is not common in Mirkwood, as far as I can tell."

"The tailors I was assigned added it. I had nothing to do with the matter."

"Really? You would not have added it yourself if given the chance?" Melwanis looked doubtful, her gaze slipping to the small jewelry in Amariel's hair.

"No. It feel a bit… strange" Amariel admitted. "I've never worn anything like it before."

"Ah, yes. It would feel a bit unusual, I imagine, for a commoner. But I warrant it feels good, having something to heighten your class." Melwanis smiled, touching her own hair, whereupon a fair, thin circlet rested. "I off-course have no need of such a thing."

Amariel bowed her head, half in acknowledgment, half to have something to do. She truly did not know how to answer those kinds of attacks, and this evening, there seemed to be many forthcoming.

"But I doubt you'd refrain from adding it if given the chance. That is what you're here for, is it not?" Melwanis had lowered her voice, making Amariel unsure for a moment of whether she'd heard right.

"My lady?"

"I know why you're here." Melwanis said, leaning towards the elleth and lowering her voice even further. "You would do anything to heighten your position in life. You want to be more than the simple nothing you were born as. You snared a lord in Mirkwood, but it was not enough, so now you're here for Elladan."

"What are you talking about?!" Amariel exclaimed.

"Do not try to trick me. I know your aim, and you will not succeed. Elladan will never marry you." Amariel felt her mouth drop open.

"What are you two talking about?" The question came from Arwen, unknowingly repeating Amariel's words. She was smiling, but there was a trace of uncertainty in her smile as she looked between the two elleths. Melwanis sat back, and Amariel realized they'd gotten the attention of quite a lot of noldor.

"Nothing. Just the lack of power exhibited by certain elves." Melwanis glanced at Amariel from the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, but that not to be made fun of," a noldor said, looking at Amariel sympathetically. "As the only elven realm in their position, I cannot imagine how hard it must be for your people to keep fighting, now that their beloved Greenwood has turned into the Mirkwood of anyone's nightmares." There were several murmurs of consent around the table, the noldorin lords and ladies giving her various looks of sympathy.

"Just imagine, living in that dark forest..." They said.

"Surrounded by spiders, evil..."

"Powerless to stop it..." An elleth shuddered.

"No." Melwanis sighed loudly. "But they're doing what they can with what they have. One cannot be blamed for being born weak."

Once more there were murmurs of assent around the table. Everywhere she looked, sympathetic looks had turned into glances of pity. At the head of the table, Elrond's expression was neutral as he looked over at Glorfindel. That same soft melody she'd heard around the city was emanating from somewhere on his person.

She closed her eyes as the humiliating talk continued around her, disguised as sympathy.

"We cannot all have powerful artifacts to keep us safe," Her words were followed by silence, and immediately, the eyes of Glorfindel and Elrond snapped to her. Nearby, Estel choked on his soup.

"What did you say?" Amariel straightened.

"You are right. We are doing what we can, but we do not have any powerful artifacts or remnants from the first age to help." When nobody answered, she frowned. "You're protecting your realm with one, I can feel it." There was a pause, then Melwanis laughed.

"What artifacts?" She asked. "We use none."

"You do not think this light, this surreal feeling stems from just your elven presence?" Amariel asked dubiously.

"Well, it might be hard to imagine for you Mirkwood elves," Melwanis muttered, sipping her wine once more. Amariel clenched her fists.

"I'm not imagining things. Clearly, you are using some kind of powerful heirloom. You're using it to better transfer the power contained within you." Another silence following her statement. Now the entire table was listening.

"And where do you have that idea from, if I may ask?" Erestor asked, eyeing her carefully. Something about his tone made her pause.

"Nowhere particular," She said, suddenly wary. "I just thought…"

"Ah, she's thinking!" Melwanis muttered beside her. She reached for the wine, pouring herself yet another glass with shaky fingers. "The horror…" There were a couple of snickers from the people nearest, but the rest did not hear. Amariel looked over at Elrond uncertainly, her eyes flickering over his form. If that melody actually stemmed from some artifact… Despite his fine clothing and exquisite appearance he wore no jewelry except for some rings on his fingers. The moment her eyes lingered on them his fist clenched and something compelled her to look up, meeting the eyes of the lord. His expression was smooth as always, but there was a potent warning in his eyes, a dangerous feel to his form. Her mouth snapped shut immediately.

Someone nearby let out a derisive laugh.

"A magic artifact? Leave it to the simple woodelves of Mirkwood to invent children's' tales to excuse our greater skill and power." Laughter sounded around them, and Amariel dropped her gaze from Elrond's to her plate. The remaining food was still there. Laughter ringing around her, she lifted the utensils carefully, forcing her eyes to remain on her plate as she picked up a piece of cold meat, chewing it slowly.

Chatter started up once more, spearheaded by Arwen, who steered the conversation away from the disgraced woodelf easily, making the noldor laugh with charming quips and easy banter. Unbidden, Amariel's eyes flickered over the table to Elladan. He'd said nothing, but he was very still in his seat, his fist white around his knife as he watched his father, jaw tensed. Sensing her gaze he glanced over her, but she immediately looked away. She could not bear to speak with him.

Suddenly several light, ringing tones echoed through the room. Immediately the elves quieted once more as Elrond stood. Looking about, he smiled.

"My dear friends and allies, I trust you've all eaten well," he said "It is time to propose a toast to my sweet daughter, who, thank Illuvatar, has finally returned to me, safe and sound." He looked down at Arwen, his face the image of fatherly devotion. "There are few loves in this world like that a father bears his daughter, and there are no daughters in this world as kind, gentle and beautiful as you. I pray your life will be long and prosperous," his eyes flickered for a moment to Estel, "and may your stay here be a long and glad one." Arwen smiled as her father raised his glass high.

"To the lady Arwen!" The cheer echoed through the room, then sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as elves walked out onto the large open area in the room, and started dancing. Elrond offered his hand to his daughter, who accepted it, clinging close to her father and speaking quietly as they walked out onto the floor.

Elladan stood, but in a quick movement Melwanis approached him, linking their elbows.

"If I may have this dance," she giggled, causing Elladan to blink in surprise. "Off course." He glanced back at Amariel but soon they were on the floor, Melwanis leaning into the older twin. There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned to see Estel standing beside her, offering his hand silently. She took it with a small smile, following him out onto the floor.

"I am sorry," he said, after a while in silence. "How they acted… That was -"

"Don't be." Amariel smiled at him sadly. "You're an outcast too, are you not?" He sighed.

"You could say that." Estel studied her. "Amariel..."

"Please. Leave me be." There were so many emotions running through her at the moment, not least because of Elrond's speech. She wondered where her father was, how much he knew of the mutiny being planned.

"It looks like you two are done." Amariel looked up to see one of Megor's followers smirking at them. They'd stopped dancing. Estel looked at her questioningly, but she had no time to respond before her hand was ripped from his, the ellon pulling her away to an open spot on the floor. There he laid a hand on her waist, the other forcing hers up.

"So," he began. "You refused."

"What do you want?"

"Ah, you're clearly not as kind and gentle as that Arwen seems to be." he pouted in mock hurt. She frowned. "I am here to give you one last offer, princess." He said.

"I already said no. That will not change." She tried to leave, but he suddenly squeezed her hand painfully, making her gasp.

"You will not leave until I am done." The ellon said sternly, forcing her back into his hold. "You will visit that dear general of yours and tell him you're tired. You will leave for Aman, and you will send a message back to your dear family _begging_ them to come with you."

"And why would I do that?"

"It is the last and only chance you have to live." Amariel frowned, keeping her eyes locked on his.

"No. _You_ will abandon this foolish plan of yours before it gets you exiled."

The elf laughed. "You think you can stop us? It has already begun." When Amariel made no reply he snorted.

"It's been a day already and still you have not noticed." He twirled them forcefully around, until Amariel could see the other four members of his group, standing to the side and watching them. Megor was not there. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"I see your leader is home, licking his wounds." This time he twisted his grip, causing Amariel to let out a small sound in pain.

"Like my father said," the ellon commented disdainfully. "Our princess is all about beauty, no brains – just like her mother." He sighed. "No matter. If you won't leave while you have the chance, you'll become an obstacle to get rid of. Or perhaps," he suddenly pulled her closer, whispering in her ear, "you can provide some amusement, before we rid ourselves of you.". She cringed, leaning away from him as far as possible.

"What is going on here?" Elrohir appeared, a clear warning on his face. The ellon looked back at her.

"You've been warned." With that he let her go, making her stumble backwards in surprise and disgust. Elrohir caught her easily, helping her right herself.

"What was that about?" He looked at her imploringly, but Amariel could only watch the retreating back of the other elf.

"Amariel! Speak to me." She watched him rejoin his group, making them five in total. Five, without Megor.

"I have to find Faelwen." Elrohir looked at her like she'd gone mad.

"The tailor? Why?" Amariel disappeared into the crowd, looking for them desperately. If her suspicions were true…

"Amariel! What is it?" Elrohir caught her hand, stopping her.

"Nothing. Elrohir, I don't really have time -" He raised her hand to the light. The once thin, long fingers were swelling, an unnatural red color appearing.

"This is not nothing," he said. She paused, about to speak when she saw them. A tall, silverhaired elleth, and a tiny elleth with black hair, chatting animatedly with a large group of friends. Amariel moved over quickly. They saw her coming.

"Ah, there she is! Alas, if only I'd have a little more time. I would have tweaked the dress a little. You see this line," Faelwen placed a hand around her, using the other to point at a small stitch on her dress. "T'is a bit low -"

"Please. Faelwen, have you heard any news of the other woodelves these last few days? Anything out of the ordinary?" Faelwen gaped at her for a moment, then another elleth spoke.

"You mean Megor and his group? Aye, apparently two of them left this morning. The noldorin guard told them not to, warned them of the orcs in the mountains but they would not listen. They left, and since Glorfindel had the guard doubled. No doubt disliked the fact that they got away so easily without our consent -" Only then did she notice Elrohir. She blushed. "Offcourse, I have not -"

"Where is Elladan?" Amariel asked quickly, ignoring the the other.

"He went outside with Melwanis," Faelwen said, "Why?"

Amariel all but ran out the doors. Clearly the two who left were messengers, no doubt sending word of her decision and orders to proceed. She had to stop them, but first, she had to warn Elladan and his family. They must be informed -

The doors snapped open, revealing a softly lit terrace with a beautiful view of the valley beyond. There were only two elves out here, their dark hair glossy in the moonlight, their silver circlets glinting. They were kissing.

Amariel came to a sudden halt, her mind blank. A moment later Elrohir crashed through the doors.

"What on arda..." then he saw the two. "Oh no."

Elladan withdrew from the kiss quickly, making Melwanis tip forward before righting herself.

"Amariel -" Their eyes met, and she could see the conflict in his. Longing, anger, fear, pain.

"So, how did it go?" Melwanis asked her, leaning back against the railing.

"How did… what go?" Elrohir asked, when noone answered.

"The proposal." Melwanis smiled. "Our friend here received a proposal today and a declaration of eternal love from a sindarin lord, no less. Is that not cause for celebration?"

A silence followed her words, and Elladan looked away, his features suddenly passive.

"Oh, wait, silly me, I do not need to ask. I know exactly how it went." Melwanis looked at her contemptuously. "What was it you said? "There is nothing to be _gained_ from this marriage. Nothing." She drew out the words, underlining their meaning. Amariel was speechless. _We're_ all _spying on you_ , Megor had said. He'd known someone was listening. Off course he had.

"It is not what it sounds like," Amariel said at last. "Megor is a liar, a master manipulator. He loves nobody but himself."

"Ah, but you were the one speaking of profit through marriage." Melwanis sneered.

"Is this true?" Amariel looked over to see Elrohir, the kind smile gone from his face, for once. She let out a let out a breath.

"Aye. It is." His face darkened, but Amariel pressed on, her eyes straying to Elladan. "But t'is not as you think. I was not speaking of me."

"What nonsense!" Melwanis exclaimed. "You think we'd believe you if you say he, a sindarin lord, wanted to marry _you_ for profit? What does he have to gain from a lowly woodelf?"

"But I am not." She paused, feeling their eyes on her. Then she straightened. "My full name is Amariel Thranduiliel. I am the princess of Mirkwood." There was silence. Then Melwanis snorted.

"You honestly think we would believe that farce?"

"It is the truth."

"Thranduil has never informed us of the birth of any princess. Mirkwood does not have a princess."

"Thranduil did not inform us of the birth of Legolas either," Elladan said quietly. Finally he looked up at her. If he'd had looked conflicted before, it was nothing compared to now.

"But if this is true… Why have you not told me? Why did you avoid any question I had?"

"Because I was afraid," Amariel admitted. "I did not know you, I did not know your people. It is easier to love a commoner than an enemy, and I could not stand the thought of rejection." She kept his eyes, trying to make him understand. He looked down.

"You should have told me. After the meadow -"

"I tried, Valar, I tried! But there were so many things happening, so many troubles I worried about -"

"Like Megor's proposal?"

He met her eyes and immediately she quieted. Pain, broken faith, distrust. His look cut into her like a knife, causing a lack of air that had nothing to do with the tight bodice.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, her voice weak, broken.

"Convenient isn't it?" Melwanis smiled. "You wait until the last possible moment to reveal something so important, and what's more, your revelation happens at the only time you've ever looked the part." She paused, letting her words sink in. "You know what I think? I think you've given this a great deal of thought, and come to the conclusion that the only person more eligible than me would be a daughter of Thranduil. And lo and behold, you are. Offcourse this is hard to believe, so you wait until the only time you have an excuse to dress up, and add that silly thing in your hair." At that Amariel frowned.

"You think I would have hatched some elaborate scheme, which would be entirely dependent on being lent a dress and hair jewelry, seeing as a being a mirkwoodelf I did not have it myself?"

"You look nothing like him," Melwanis shot back.

"I've taken after my mother."

"Who, again, we have few pictures of, and even fewer have met. _Convenient_."

Amariel didn't know what to say. She looked over at Elladan, only to find a wall in his eyes.

"Did you honestly think you could trick us into thinking this was true? Using your beauty alone?" She gave a short, derisive laugh, her cheeks bright in the moonlight.

"It is the truth," Amariel said, her eyes fastening on Elladan. "Please. Believe me." His face darkened.

"Why on arda would he do that?" Melwanis sneered. "Now give us the truth. Why are you _really_ here?"

Amariel did not answer.

"She is pregnant." The words came from Elladan, causing her eyes to snap to his, "With my child."

Amariel felt her mouth open. Suddenly she could barely breathe, the betrayal so deep, so heartfelt that it right smote her. Elladan was watching her, and she looked away, unable to bear his gaze.

Melwanis seemed unseated. "You mean that visit in Mirkwood... it - it happened? You met this... elleth?" She looked over at Elladan, but he did not reply. Amariel could feel his eyes on her. There was a silence, in which the music and laughter coming from inside seemed out of place. Melwanis' mouth snapped shut. An expression of hurt crossing her face.

"How do you know the child is yours?" The question came softly, a mere whisper that carried an enormous weight.

"Pardon me?" The question came from Elrohir, and Melwanis straightened.

"I said," she repeated louder, turning to Elladan "How do you know this child is yours? That Megor definitely has a fondness for your sweet little silvan. After all, you've only met her once, and she was willing, whether she knew your identity or not. That Megor… Who knows how many times they've met?" Her words trailed into a loaded silence.

"How _d_ _are_ you?" Her tone was suddenly completely even. The pain, sadness, betrayal she felt was balling up inside her, turning to anger at last. Since she'd come here she'd been threatened, verbally abused, endured mockery, public humiliation and assault, heard people belittle her family and people, and even nearly lost a dear friend. And now... Closing her eyes, she sang a soothing melody in her head, repeating it over and over.

"Oh, come now. What elleth sleeps with a stranger unless she knows she has something to gain?" Amariel clenched her fists, the anger welling up in her with such intensity it surprised her. The song in her head grew louder, and she focused on it, throwing herself into the melody. She would not loose control. Not like this.

"Melwanis," she heard Elrohir say. "That is enough."

"No, it isn't." Melwanis was staring at her, meeting her eyes defiantly. "What life do you honestly think this commoner led before coming here?" She asked disdainfully.

"You know _nothing_ about my life." There was a strange rustle around them, as if a sudden wind was blowing through the valley.

"Don't I? You are an avarin mixed-breed, that I can tell. You know what I think happened?"

"Melwanis, _enough!_ " Finally Elladan spoke, his voice stern. He took Melwanis' arm, but she wrenched herself free, moving to Amariel until they were face to face. Her breath smelled of alcohol.

"Do you know what I think?" she repeated quietly, leaning against the elleth.

"Let me go," Amariel ground out through her teeth. Her voice sounded strange, even to her own ears. Inside, her thoughts were a jumble, the song so loud she could barely hear her own voice. There was a crack nearby, the rustling growing louder.

"I think your mother was a beautiful, avarin, _wench_ , who slept her way to a better position in life – Just. Like. You."

" _Get_ _o_ _ff_ _me_ _!_ " Amariel did not know what happened next. She pushed Melwanis, and the elleth flew through the air, hitting a side railing with a sickening crash. The windows shattered into a thousand pieces, showering Elrohir and Elladan with broken shards, and a sinister creaking and groaning seemed to come from all around them. Amariel gasped, clutching her chest. She suddenly felt as if she'd competed in one of her brother's soldier-tournaments, the massive exertion leaving her winded and weak.

The twins looked at her in shock, then, without a word, Elrohir ran over to the fallen elleth. Elladan followed quickly, and only then did Amariel notice the branches wrapped around Melwanis, creating several vice-like bonds crisscrossing her body. All around them, plants had emerged through creaks and crevices in the terrace, coiling around the railing. Amariel felt herself stumble back to lean against it, clutching at her dress. She was starting to feel faint. She needed air, but she could not get it.

Suddenly there were tens of other elves gathering by the broken windows, staring out at the terrace. She was alone, standing amidst the wreckage while the twins tried to cut through the vines holding Melwanis suspended with little success. She saw it on their faces as they realized what had happened. Surprise turned to shock, and then anger. Suddenly an elf pushed his way to the front, and she recognized the guard that had been less than welcoming to her at the banquet.

"What is going-" He started, then his eyes alighted on the destruction. "Dark magic." He whispered. Then his eyes met hers. "Seize her! Gag that girl!"

"Wait!" Elladan shouted, but it was too late. Several noldor ran forward and Amariel acted on pure instinct, slipping underneath the arm of the first, twirling out of reach of the second. The move put her at the corner of the balcony, only the railing between her and the long fall behind.

She looked back at the elves, her eyes wide. They were slowly becoming blurred, her head feeling increasingly light.

"Get her!" The guard screamed, his face angry, and suddenly she did not see elves any more but humans, gathering around her, blocking any route of escape. They would not get her. Not while she still lived. She turned and leapt onto the railing.

"No!" "Stop!" The voices seemed faint, far away. She could see trees far beneath. Closing her eyes, she let herself fall.

AHoD

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AHoD

Okay, got another chapter up. I felt like the last one did not help the story progress much so consider this a bonus :) Either way, thanks for the reviews, I'll try to answer them soon but I've got a bit on my plate at the moment. I'm prioritizing finishing this instead :)


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